Saviour

Saviour

Neville is an ordinary boy. He has triumphs, he makes mistakes, he has friends, he has enemies. Not even his birthday makes him special, even though it probably should.

But, he thinks, he must have something to set him apart from the others because he is able to get Draco's attention. He's always thought that the taunts were reserved for important people like Harry, Hermione and Ron.

He doesn't want to admit that he likes the attention, but it doesn't matter because Draco knows, anyway.

'Don't deny it, Longbottom. Sometimes you're invisible and I'm the only one who can see you suffer.'

He tries to seek out Draco when he's in pain, but it's always Draco who manages to find him.

He would call it cold comfort, but it's not even that much: maybe a sneer or a 'Watch it, Longbottom'. That's more than enough, though, because at least Draco's acknowledging his existence and assuaging his fear of vanishing.

'Besides, who else would let you love them? No one wants a dumb Squib haunting his steps.'

Draco doesn't want love or romance, but it's hard for Neville to comply. He tells himself that Draco rescued him from his own mind and made him feel anything but ordinary. He maintains that Draco's attention means he's worthwhile: a Malfoy's only meant to want the best.

He knows that Draco's acerbic reassurances aren't caring in the least, but among bloody bites and dry fucking is the occasional caress of sweat-soaked skin and the occasional butterfly kiss against his neck.

As he diligently licks trickles of white from Draco's thighs, he thinks it might be all right.

'Seriously, you can't say that you can go on without me. You're nothing when I'm not here. Do your friends even say hello to you anymore?'

Neville isn't actually sure where he stands with his friends. He leaves the dorm earlier than they do and gets back later and is always so distant in lessons that even Snape has to snap to get his attention.

He doesn't stare at Draco because he doesn't need to; they see each other often enough, and besides, Draco hit him last time he looked over during Charms.

Draco soothes all the wounds he causes, though, and where else could Neville go to find someone who'll touch him without apologising?

'Exactly. You poor, pathetic, hideous boy. How would you go on if I didn't allow you to give yourself to me?'

He caresses as he whispers poison into Neville's ear, and Neville's so grateful for Draco then because he's right: who else would ever accept him?

And then, finally, Neville opens his eyes when he sees Ron and Hermione holding hands and laughing, because even though affection is something he could never hope to receive, maybe sugar-coated insults and constant Healing Charms are even less healthy than Draco's other practices.

It is hard to stand up to your enemies, just as hard to stand up to your friends, and damn near impossible to stand up to Draco Malfoy, but Neville knows he must.

He pushes himself away from that taut, hard body and tells Draco exactly how he feels, hitting and yelling until he is drained of everything but aching exhaustion tinged with sorrow.

Draco reaches out a bruised arm and strokes his hair.

'Ssh, don't worry. I'll make it all right, you'll see. You know you can't leave, Longbottom, you need me.'

Neville's too tired to protest and walk away, and Draco seems so sincere and genuinely sorry that he can't do anything but relax into the embrace and shut his eyes as Draco smirks a broken smirk.

Actually, everything about him's broken, and so's Neville, and they're right back at the start again, because where would they be if they didn't have each other?

~end~