Title: Are You In Love Yet? Part 2
Author: Constant Vigilance
Status: FIN
Email: tirel@pcnuthut.com

Website: https://www.angelfire.com/tv2/firebird_ascending/
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Draco/Neville
Spoilers: AU. Post Hogwarts.
Warnings: Slash, Mpreg (for a bit)
Disclaimer: I own nothing. JKR is God.
Summary: Draco is cursed. Neville teaches him to save himself.
Notes: This story is an entry in Misconceptions: Harry Potter Mpreg Fuh-Q-Fest Wave 2 (http://hpmpregfqf.design-of-decadence.net/)

Challenge #274: Incorporate plot elements of the fairy tale Beauty And The Beast into an Mpreg fic. (Submitted by Turquoisia Xenia)

Neville stood staring up at the huge gates. A shiver of something shot down his spine. If he weren’t mistaken, he’d call it anticipation. Morgan had left a few things unmentioned in his story of woe. First, how this House of Horrors was actually a well-to-do manor complete with protective wards on the surrounding walls. Second, he forgot to mention that there was a gigantic ‘M’ on the front gates. Neville racked his memory to remember any whose name started with ‘M’ and who appeared to have more money than God.

He could only come up with one family. “No,” he murmured. “Couldn’t be.” He was startled out of his contemplation by a ‘pop’ and he looked nervously through the bars at a small house elf. He composed himself quickly and smiled. “Hello. I’m Neville Longbottom,” he introduced himself. “I believe your master requested someone to replace my cousin, Morgan LeBeau?”

The elf looked curiously at him, large ears twitching a bit. “Yes. Master did ask for someone else. We’s are supposed to ask if you come willingly and knowledgably?”

Neville shrugged. “I come willingly. Morgan fed me a lot of crap with his story, so I can’t say knowledgably, but I can guarantee I’m willing.”

The elf stared for a moment longer and then the gates swung open. Neville bowed slightly and stepped inside. “If sir will step on the portkey portal,” the elf pointed. Neville nodded and complied. He fought to retain his breakfast as the stomach-tugging ride ended, depositing him in a bloody huge room. The house elf popped in a second later. “If sir will follow Gillum.”

Neville hoisted his bag and followed; gawking at everything he could get his eyes around. “So, Gillum is it?” The elf nodded. “Gillum, whose manor is this?”

The house elf stopped abruptly, nearly causing Neville to run over him. “W-we’s cannot tell sir that,” he whispered, looking about for something to smash his fingers in. Neville saw his intentions and hurried to reassure the little creature.

“No, no that’s fine,” he placated. “I don’t really need to know, right?” he smiled in a friendly manner at the elf. Gillum eyed him warily, but eventually returned the smile. “Can you tell me where we’re going now?” Neville asked instead.

The elf nodded vigorously, ears flopping wildly. “Sir is to be a permanent resident,” the house elf informed Neville with a sideways smile. “The house elves must perform the Master ceremony.”

Neville frowned curiously. “What’s that?”

The little creature fell back to walk with Neville, nearly bouncing in excitement. “When a new human is brought into a home guarded by house elves, or is born into the house, we’s must say the ritual words so the new human is master too. It’s a great honor,” he shared conspiritally. “We’s haven’t been bound to a new human in nearly 20 years.”

“And this ceremony…it’s a good thing?” Neville asked, a bit concerned at the idea of binding another creature to him.

The elf nodded. “Oh, yes. We’s love serving here. We’s gotten lonely since Master…oh! Oh, bad Gillum! Gillum says too much!” the elf began frantically smacking himself in the head. Neville dropped his sack and grabbed for the elf’s arms.

“No! Gillum, it’s okay,” he called out over the wailing. “You didn’t say anything. Really, you didn’t!”

It nearly took Neville pinning the little creature down before Gillum would agree not to hit himself anymore. When he’d calmed enough to continue, Neville held his hand just in case he decided to start smacking himself again. The elf led him into a large kitchen full of other elves. Neville’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“Crap!” he breathed. “There must be two dozen of you!”

Gillum nodded. “We’s is 25 of us.” He moved the easily manipulated Neville to the center of the room and the house elves formed a half circle around him. “Is sir ready?” Neville nodded and waited. The elves linked hands and knelt.

“Welcome Master Neville, banish fear. You are king and master here. Speak your wishes. Speak your will. Swift obedience meets them still,” they intoned together. Neville felt a bit of magic wash over him and then the elves were up and moving again.

“Does Master Neville wish lunch?” Gillum asked, eyes big with unshed tears.

Neville knelt worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

Gillum shook his little head. “We’s is just so happy to have another master here,” he managed to say before bursting into tears into his own hands. Neville awkwardly patted the elf on the back and looked around to see other elves similarly indisposed.

He sighed. “Okay, I suppose I would like some lunch then.” The elves exploded in gleeful motion. Gillum herded him out of the kitchen and into a ridiculously large dining room. The elf beckoned him to sit at the head of a table big enough to seat an entire house at Hogwarts. Thirty minutes later, Neville was just finishing the last of his delicious lunch when he heard a commotion.

He stood, thinking perhaps the house elves were coming to escort him en masse through the manor. What came through the door, however, was entirely different. This must be the ‘monster’ Morgan had gone on about. Neville eyed it closely, cataloguing everything he saw. He didn’t spend much time on that, however, as the monster glanced up and stopped dead in its tracks.

“Longbottom?”

Neville peered intently at the creature, searching for something. “Malfoy?” he finally asked. The creature gave a huffing growl and stomped through the room to flop into a chair. Neville followed a bit more sedately and took his place again.

“How’d you know?” Malfoy sighed.

Neville couldn’t take his eyes away. “Your gates have an ‘M’ on them. And this place is like a bloody castle. Add into that how no one has seen hide nor…er, sorry,” he winced at the nearly imperceptible flinch from Malfoy. “Um, how no one has seen you in months, and I just put two and two together.”

Draco nodded, hating how fucking horrible his life was. Turned into a disgusting creature, impregnated by some god-awful potion, and now…Merlin knew how long stuck with Longbottom.

“So, you want to tell me why I’m here?” Neville asked carefully. Draco turned icy eyes on him and glared. “Or not,” Neville shrugged.

Draco sighed. “No. You at least deserve to know that much. I’m cursed with these looks and for some reason known only to Merlin and Parkinson, I’m pregnant as well. You are here to fall in love with me so I can get back to being myself.”

Neville just stared for long minutes. “Um, what?” he finally managed.

Draco growled. “I’m ugly and pregnant. You have to fall in love with me to break this bloody curse. After that, we can both go on our merry way and continue with our lives.”

Neville was flummoxed. “B-but…well, what about your baby?” he latched on to the only thing that made a little bit of sense.

Draco shrugged. “Don’t really care. If you like children, you can have it as a memento of your time here. Now I have things to do. Have the house elves show you to your room and then you can roam around, touring the manor. I’ll see you at dinner.” With that, Draco stood and exited the room, leaving a bewildered Neville behind.

“A memento?” he squeaked.

____________________________________________________________________

Neville sank gratefully into his seat several hours later. The tour had been interesting. However, he was pretty sure that he’d never remember half of the rooms the house elves showed him and his feet hurt really badly. Just as the food appeared on the table, the dining room door opened up and Malfoy padded in. He took a seat a few chairs down from Neville and sat, frowning.

“Hi,” Neville ventured.

Draco’s head shot up and he delivered a piercing glare. “Mmm,” he grunted noncommittally.

“You have a gorgeous home,” Neville tried again.

“Yes.”

Sighing, Neville began to dish himself up. He noticed that Draco was not eating. “Can I get you something?” he asked.

Draco growled again, a full-fledged growl complete with teeth. “Are you placating me, Longbottom?”

Neville shook his head quickly. “No. I just thought…well, you’re not eating. Aren’t you hungry?”

Draco fell back into his chair and sighed. He held his paws up, claws glinting dangerously. “I can’t exactly hold silverware anymore,” he groused.

“Oh,” Neville said softly, eyeing the food on the table. “Well, you could have a turkey leg?” he offered. “Or a hunk of bread?”

“I’ll be fine, Longbottom,” Draco sneered. “I don’t need your pity. I’ll eat later, without putting on a show for you.”

Neville frowned. “I didn’t think you’d be putting on a show, Malfoy. I was just trying to be helpful.”

“Well, don’t,” came his reply.

Neville sighed. “Fine.” He went back to eating. “Tell me more about this curse,” he asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. “A few months ago, I pissed Pansy Parkinson off. Told her I wouldn’t marry her. She offered to have my heir. I refused. She took off whining that I’d get mine eventually.” He growled at the memory. “A couple of months later, she shows up again. Says she cursed me to show on the outside what I’m like on the inside, or some such rot. Then she sneaks a bloody pregnancy potion in my drink and trots off blathering I told you so all the way. Few days later, I began to change…into this.” He waved a clawed hand to indicate his body.

“Did she say how to fix it?” Neville asked.

Draco snorted. “She babbled something about sharing my life being a privilege and finding love and happiness. I really wasn’t listening. My guts were in the process of being scrambled to make way for this bloody thing inside of me.”

Neville covered a small smile, but Draco saw it anyway. “What are you laughing about, Longbottom?” he bared his teeth.

“Only you, Malfoy, could completely ignore what was probably the way to break this curse because you were having a tantrum.”

“I was not having a tantrum!” Draco bellowed. “I was growing a uterus!”

Neville snickered again. Draco just sighed and flopped back again. “So, are you in love with me yet?”

Neville choked on a piece of turkey. “What?” he wheezed.

“You have to fall in love with me to break this bloody curse…I think. So, are you in love with me yet?”

Neville placed his fork carefully down on his plate. “Um…Malfoy, It doesn’t work that way. You have to earn love.”

Draco snorted and waved a paw. “Bollocks. I’m a Malfoy. We don’t earn things. They’re given to us.”

Neville smiled sadly. “Like this curse and that baby were given to you?” he asked softly. Draco looked horribly annoyed. Neville sighed. “Look, I’m sorry you’re cursed. Really, I am. And I’d really like to help you out with this. But, to be honest, you look very appropriate for how you’ve treated me over the years. And it will take more than a demand to make me fall in love with you.” He felt horrible as Draco slumped further into his chair. “So, what happens if I do fall in love with you?” he forced himself to ask.

Draco shrugged. “Dunno. I suppose the curse is broken and we can just go back to our lives.”

Neville leaned forward in his chair. “Really? Even though my life will be irreparably changed by falling in love with you?”

“What are you blathering on about?”

“Draco,” he began. “I’ll have fallen in love with you. You will be a vital part of my thoughts, my actions and my life. Leaving you would break my heart. And all you have to offer me for that broken heart is a baby you don’t want in the first place?”

Draco stood up abruptly, his chair skittering backwards. “I’m not asking you to stay in love with me, Longbottom,” he snapped. “Just love me enough to break the curse.”

“Love doesn’t work that way, Draco,” Neville insisted. “To break this curse, I’m thinking you need real love. Not the kind of love you get from a good night of shagging. You need true lasts-a-lifetime love. And I can’t honestly say that loving you to break this curse will be worth the lifetime of pain I’ll feel when you just get rid of me.”

Draco perked up, looking pleased. “So you want something to make it worthwhile?” he grinned, a rather scary application with as many large teeth as he now had. “Why didn’t you just say you wanted compensation? I can do that.”

Neville sighed sadly. “Never mind. Maybe you’ll understand someday.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Fine. Goodnight, Longbottom. Work on that falling in love thing. I’ll see you in the morning.” And he left.

________________________________________________________________________

He walked along a brook, his feet crunching on the gravel path. Trees bordered the gently running water, their branches reaching down to touch the top of Neville’s head. He walked and as he walked, he thought. He thought of Draco, of his choice to replace Morgan, of what Draco wanted Neville to do. As he walked, and thought, he began to see Draco everywhere.

He saw the blonde man as he was prior to the curse, which surprised him, as he had no idea what Draco looked like prior to the curse. He remembered Draco from school, but the young man he saw now was far different. His hair had grown longer and his face harder. The boy had sneered and smiled in equal amounts…the man seemed to have forgotten how to smile.

“You will be rewarded for your efforts,” the blonde man told him. “Your every wish will be granted. I only demand that you love me.” And he walked away, moving quickly down the path. Neville tried to catch up to him, to tell him once again that one cannot demand to be loved. But he was gone.

“…Neville. Neville. Neville. Neville. Neville. Neville.”

Neville jerked awake to the sound of a wall clock calling his name. With a sigh, he rolled out of bed and began his morning toilette. Upon coming back out of the adjoining bathroom, he really wasn’t all that surprised to find new clothes waiting for him on his newly made bed. “Thank you, Gillum,” he called softly. Quickly donning his clothing, he made his way back down to the dining room, so far the only room he could find with 75% accuracy.

Draco didn’t join him for breakfast, and Neville chose to ignore the sad twinge that accompanied that knowledge. After breakfast, he decided to explore. He chose a hallway off in a direction that the house elves had neglected to take him the previous day. The first room he came to was lined with mirrors. For the first few minutes, it was quite delightful, seeing himself from all different angles. But then uneasiness overcame him.

He knew he wasn’t much to look at to begin with. Standing in a room that reflected that over and over again to him was actually kind of nauseating, now that he was thinking about it. He made his way back to the door without making eye contact with any of his other selves. As he reached for the door handle, he spotted a chain wrapped around it. Curious, he unwound it.

It was a pocket watch. He snapped it open and saw what he could only assume was the Malfoy crest. Neville gave a soft smile and pocketed it. He moved out of the room and tried the next door. As the door opened, hundreds of eyes locked on him. He nearly jumped out of his skin until he realized that the eyes belonged to portraits.

He moved up and down the long portrait room, carefully observing each past Malfoy, looking for a trace of Draco in each one. He didn’t think he’d ever seen quite so many dour and sour faced blonde people in one place. “No wonder Draco turned out like he is,” he breathed quietly. “Just look at his role models.”

“Quite right, young man.”

Neville squeaked and nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun around swiftly to see where the voice had come from. “Wh-who said that?”

“That would be me. Up here. No, further to the right. Yes!” Neville spotted a frantically waving short-haired young man who bore a striking resemblance to the current Malfoy. “How right you are, good sir,” the portrait grinned cheekily. “The Malfoys do indeed leave something to be desired.”

“Casper, be silent!” snapped a bitter looking old woman in a tight collar and a powdered wig.

Casper stuck his tongue out and rolled his eyes at Neville. “I’m Casper Malfoy,” he bowed slightly. “And you are?”

“Er, I’m Neville Longbottom,” Neville glanced warily back at the glaring old woman.

“Longbottom?” came a voice from a few paces down. Neville stepped back to see more of the wall. “Do you know Frank Longbottom?” A girlish giggle followed. Neville found himself looking at a most lovely vision of girlhood.

“Yes,” he smiled politely, trying to look without staring. “Frank Longbottom is my father.”

The girl’s bright blue eyes lit up. “Frank married? And had a child? Who? Who did he marry?” she clasped her hands eagerly together.

“Er, he married Alice. Alice McMillan.” Neville watched in horror as the girl’s smile dropped and tears began welling up in her eyes. “Um…are you all right, ma’am?” he asked carefully.

“M-my F-Frank married Alice M-McMillan?” she whimpered. Neville looked desperately back to Casper for help. The young man in the portrait just rolled his eyes again and leaned against his frame with an interested look.

“Um…yes?” Neville tried. The girl began wailing. Neville glanced around, panicking. “Please,” he begged. “Please, stop crying. I don’t know what I said to make you cry, but I’m sorry. Please? Is there anything I can do for you?”

The girl delicately wiped her eyes with a handkerchief and blinked sadly. “You’re just as sweet as Frank is,” she whispered. “How is he?”

Neville bit his tongue and took a step back. “He’s…um…he’s, well…” Neville watched a worried look come onto her face.

“He’s dead isn’t he?” she breathed, clutching her hands against her breast.

“No!” Neville was quick to assure her, and then felt so horrible when she smiled happily. He hung his head. “My mother and father became aurors after Hogwarts,” he said softly. The girl leaned forward, anxiously listening. “They were working against Voldemort.” She flinched, as did several other pictures in the room. “One of his Death Eaters cast the Cruciatus curse on them. They held it until my parents went insane. They aren’t dead, but they’ve been in St. Mungo’s my entire life and there they will probably stay until they die.”

He didn’t realize how much pain he’d been holding in on that topic until he was forced to share it with someone else. He pulled his hand up to his chest in a gesture not unlike the girl and tried to hold his heart in his chest. When he glanced back up, the girl was slumped at the bottom of her portrait, tears dripping off of her cheeks.

“Who?” she whispered. “Who hurt them?”

Neville shrugged. “A woman named Bellatrix Lestrange,” he said tonelessly. A shriek cracked through the room and the girl was up on her feet, rage in her every motion. “What?” he demanded, a bit frightened.

“My sister,” she raged. “My own sister drove the love of my life insane!”

Neville frowned. “Sister?” he wracked his brain for the fact he knew was floating around in there somewhere. His eyes widened when he got it. “You?” he breathed. “You’re Narcissa Malfoy?”

“Black!” she snapped. “My name is Narcissa Black.”

Neville held his hands up, warding off her anger. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just meant that, when I know you, you’re married to Lucius Malfoy.”

Narcissa shuddered and smoothed her hair back. “I am indeed betrothed to that man. But I do not have to like it.”

Neville hid a tiny grin. “No, ma’am. You certainly don’t.”

She wiped away her tears again. “So. Neville L-Longbottom. What are you doing here? In this den of iniquity?” Gasps of outrage were heard throughout the room as well as a cheer from Casper’s area.

“Well, actually,” Neville smiled, “Your son…er, invited me.”

Narcissa’s jaw dropped. “I have a son?”

Neville nodded. “His name is Draco. He’s my age.”

Narcissa’s lower lip trembled. “Why don’t I know that?” she murmured. “Why has he never visited me?”

Neville’s eyes started darting about again.

“Well, dear,” came yet another voice, the imperious voice of an older woman. “My thought would be that your son took after his bastard father and can’t find the time to bother with family or love.”

Neville’s head spun around and he stared across the room. “How did you—“ he glanced at Narcissa worriedly but the older woman just snorted.

“How did I know that?” she asked, straightening her dress robes. “I know that because the bastard is my son.”

Neville gaped. “You’re Lucius Malfoy’s mother?”

“You’re my mother-in-law?” Narcissa followed on his heels.

“Indeed,” the woman replied, lifting her chin. “My name is Amelia.

“D-do I like you?” Narcissa asked nervously.

Amelia smirked. “In the beginning you did, dear. But in the beginning, you still had a personality and a brain of your own. After a few years, you simply became an extension of Lucius Malfoy and, as so, had very little need for a meddling old woman who continued to remind you of when you were once free.”

Narcissa’s chin began to wobble. “This is horrible,” she whispered. “In the space of five minutes, I’ve learned the only man I’ll ever love is married to another, he’s father and insane because of my sister. That I’ve married a horrible man who’s taken away who I am and that I have a son who doesn’t even care enough about me to come visit me.”

Neville stepped up to the portrait and gently touched the frame. “Don’t be sad, Lady Malfoy,” he said kindly. “I’m sure you had some amazing times as well. I mean, you were richer than dirt,” he tried joking.

Narcissa gazed sadly at him. “Please, just call me Narcissa. And if you’re anything like your father, you don’t believe that money can bring happiness do you?” she asked reproachfully.

Neville flushed and dropped his head momentarily. “No, ma’am. I don’t,” he said shamefully.

“And you said ‘were’,” she pointed out. “Am I dead?”

Neville shook his head. “No, ma’am. Lucius died recently and you decided to leave England. You left the Malfoy fortune to your son, saying you wanted none of the money for yourself. You changed your name back to Black and cut all ties with the Malfoys.”

Narcissa smiled a tiny smile. “Well, Amelia, looks like I at least got some sense in the end.”

“Yes indeed, dear,” the older woman said warmly.

“I must say,” Casper called. “This is more fun than I’ve seen in two hundred years.”

Neville turned back to him with a smile. “Why do you say that?”

“No one comes in here save the house elves,” Casper shrugged. “No gossip, no sun, no nothing. It’s rather boring as hell.” More gasps met his comments.

Neville smiled. “Well, I could ask to have you moved somewhere else in the house,” he offered.

Casper nearly fell out of the portrait. “You would do that?” he whispered in awe.

“No!” screeched powdered wig woman. “It’s unheard of to have a portrait moved out of the portrait room. And even if it were to happen, why would they want you of all people?” she demanded nastily. “You are only in here because of that ridiculous invention that’s cause the death of more Malfoys that I can count!”

Neville looked back to Casper. “What did you make?” he asked, wide eyed.

Casper rolled his eyes. “I helped make Veritaserum,” he snorted. “The fact that most Malfoys have way too much to hide isn’t my fault.”

Neville snickered. “Ah. Well, let me ask. If they say no, may I still come back and visit sometime?” he directed his question to Casper, Narcissa and Amelia.

“Of course!” Casper grinned. “We’d love to have you!”

Amelia nodded. “You, at least bother to acknowledge us. That’s more than I’ve seen in the whole time I’ve lived both in this portrait and in this house.”

Narcissa smiled shyly. “I’d love to see you again. Maybe you could tell me more about Frank?” she asked hopefully. Neville nodded. “A-and do you think that…well, maybe you could…” she broke off abruptly and shook her head. “Never mind. It was stupid.”

Neville smiled sadly at her. “You were wondering if I could convince Draco to come meet you?” he asked softly. Narcissa nodded, her eyes lowered. “I’ll try. He’s going through something pretty awful right now and I’m not sure he would want you to see him like this.”

Narcissa looked up worriedly. “What’s wrong with my baby?” she demanded.

Neville hid a smile. “He was recently cursed. He’s in the form of a monster until we can find the cure.”

Narcissa held her hand up over her mouth in horror. “My poor baby,” she breathed. “You’re helping him, though, aren’t you Neville?”

“Yes. We’re working really hard on fixing him,” he hedged.

She smiled. “Well, if he has you helping him, I’m sure he’ll be just fine. You bring him along whenever he feels comfortable, all right?”

Neville nodded agreeably and lifted a hand in farewell. He exited the room and heard the arguing begin immediately. He grinned. Well, one couldn’t say he wasn’t leaving his mark on the place.

__________________________________________________________________

Neville sat down to dinner with a smile. Helping someone today, even if it was just some portraits, really cheered him up. He was still smiling when Draco showed up a quarter of an hour into dinner. Draco moved into the room silently this time, stepping carefully though Neville could see his flinch at the sound of claws clicking on the hardwood floor.

“Evening, Draco,” Neville smiled welcomingly. Draco halted in his movement for a microsecond, a look of confusion shooting over his face, and then he nodded before taking his seat. “I spent today exploring again,” Neville offered a piece of chicken up to his host.

Draco eyed him, looking for the snickering to begin. When none was forthcoming, he gingerly took the meat and set it on his plate. “So, how did you like the mansion?” he asked politely.

Neville smiled shyly. “Well, it’s large and quite scary to tell you the truth.” Draco snorted. “But it is very beautiful.”

“Did you get the watch?” Draco continued, poking at his chicken, starving and wondering if Neville really didn’t care that Draco looked like a ravenous animal when eating. Neville nodded. “It’s a family heirloom,” Draco continued.

Neville smiled tightly and nodded again. “Then perhaps you should have kept it in your family,” he suggested softly. At Draco’s confused look, he sighed. “But it was lovely. Thank you.”

Draco appeared appeased. “And how did you like the portrait room?” He licked a claw.

Neville grinned. “I had the most interesting experience in there,” he said excitedly. “I met three of your family that actually spoke to me.”

Draco looked impressed. “That’s rare. Most of my family doesn’t speak to anyone but other Malfoys.”

“I noticed,” Neville said wryly. “But these three were just amazing. Oh,” he flushed. “Um…they were lonely, though.” Draco attempted to raise an eyebrow. His whole forehead went up, but Neville decided against mentioning that. “I asked Gillum if I could move them to my quarters so that they could have someone to talk to and maybe a view.” He fidgeted with his fork. “Was that all right?”

Draco smirked. “If it makes you happy, Longbottom.”

Neville smiled hugely again and nodded. “Oh, definitely. They’re amazing.”

“So, which ones are they?” Draco asked indulgently, picking off a bit of the chicken breast and lifting it to his mouth.

“One is Casper Malfoy,” Neville began.

“Ah, my nefarious ancestor who chanced upon veritaserum,” Draco stated wryly. “Well, I think you probably pleased the rest of the clan just by removing him.”

Neville chuckled. “They did seem rather pleased to have him gone. The second was your Grandmother Amelia.”

Draco’s smile disappeared. “I never knew Grandmother,” he said quietly. “Father had her sent away during the last years of her life.”

“I’m sorry,” Neville returned, a frown appearing on his face.

Draco shrugged. “No big deal, really. Can’t miss what you’ve never had.”

Neville just looked at him for a long moment. Draco began to feel uncomfortable with the heat of the Gryffindor’s stare. “Yes, you can,” Neville finally whispered. He continued to hold Draco’s gaze for long moments. “The third person was your mother. She’s about 15 or 16 in the portrait.” Draco flinched. “I told her about you.” Draco dropped his eyes from Neville’s.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly.

Neville frowned. “Why not? She seemed thrilled to know after the initial shock.”

Draco smiled sadly. “I just…” he glanced up hesitantly. “My mother, the real one, finds me…distasteful. I suppose I just wanted to have something of my mother that…”

Neville set his fork down. “That didn’t look at you and see a carbon copy of your father?” he asked quietly. Draco flinched again. “She doesn’t. She called you her baby,” he smiled at the memory. “And told me to tell you to come see her when you’re more comfortable with the form your curse is taking.”

Draco looked horrified. “You told her I’m cursed? Did you tell her why?”

Neville shook his head. “No, Draco. It isn’t my place to tell her something like that.”

Draco glared. “It wasn’t your place to tell her anything at all about me,” he snapped.

Neville shrugged and picked his fork back up. “Nonetheless, it’s done,” he stated coolly. “If you’re so inclined, you may find her on the wall in the rooms you’ve allotted to me.” He continued to eat silently, but watching Draco out of the corner of his eye. He could see the former Slytherin vacillating between remaining angry for Neville’s presumptuousness and remembering to act politely toward the nice Gryffindor he needed to have fall in love with him.

In the end, desperation won out. Draco cleared his throat. “So, how did you like the mirror room?”

Another shrug from Neville. “It was nice. Just not something that sparked an interest. I suppose one has to have a certain attitude, a certain outlook to truly appreciate seeing themselves reflected over and over like that. That’s just not me.”

“But it could be,” Draco returned in an irritated tone. Dear Merlin, was this idiot boy impressed by nothing?

“But I don’t want it to be.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Well what the bloody hell do you want, Longbottom?” he demanded.

“To be close to the earth. To work with plants.”

Draco’s mouth twisted to the side. “What ever for?”

Neville looked pointedly at Draco, searching for something. Draco held very still wondering if Neville would find whatever it was he looked for. Finally, “I want to open a rare plants store. One that stocks the hard to find and difficult to care for plants that are needed for healing and potions.” When Draco said nothing disparaging, Neville returned to his dinner.

“I wanted to open a potions business,” Draco murmured into the building silence.

“So why don’t you? Surely money isn’t a problem for you,” Neville pointed out.

“Money, no,” Draco shook his head. “However, I have other obligations now that I’m the head of the Malfoy household. Playing in my potions room is no longer an option for me.” He stated it matter-of-factly and picked another piece of meat off of the chicken breast.

Neville looked at him, pity in his eyes. “That’s too bad.”

Draco growled under his breath. He was a Malfoy. He didn’t require pity from a near-squib. “So why aren’t you rooting through the dirt in your business?”

“No money,” Neville said wryly. “I don’t have the Malfoy fortune at my disposal. I’d have to buy a building and fix it up to the necessary climatic controls. Then, I’d have to purchase the plants and begin to cultivate them. Should the money appear out of thin air, I still have several years of work ahead of me before I could even open the door to sell a plant.” The slightly pained note couldn’t be hidden beneath the sardonic reply.

Draco just nodded and watched Neville finish his dinner.

When the young man finished and pushed his plate away, Draco stood. “Are you in love with me yet, Longbottom?” he asked.

Neville smiled up at him. “No, Draco,” he said softly. “Not yet.”

Draco sighed in frustration and sketched a short bow. “Goodnight then, Longbottom.”

“Goodnight Draco.”

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