springsmutfairy (springsmutfairy) wrote in hp_springsmut, @ 2009-03-30 07:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | fic, harry/neville, slash |
Happy springsmut, j_lunatic!
Author: lauriegilbert
Recipient: j_lunatic
Title: Fairytales and Roses
Rating: R
Pairing: Harry Potter/Neville Longbottom
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Once upon a time Gran wanted to marry off her grandson. Sometimes things don't work out the way you expected.
Warnings: AU
Word Count: ~2800
Author's Notes: Big thanks to L and F for being so great while I whined over these boys being stubborn. All mistakes here are not fault of betas but of my ignoring their advice because I'm a stubborn bint.
Neville was doomed. Here he was on the verge of turning thirty, and unmarried. Most men wouldn't find this to be a problem, instead celebrating their singlehood far and wide; those men didn't have Augusta Longbottom raising them. Neville did, leading to his current situation of doom.
Adamant that Neville would not remain a bachelor beyond his thirtieth birthday, Augusta had gone so far as to organize a courtly challenge, stating that the first person who could successfully grow a true purple rose would win Neville's hand in marriage. Many women had tried, presenting any number of roses and purple flowers to his grandmother, but ultimately all of them had been turned away in defeat.
Neville's favourite had been the woman who came with something she called African Violets, trying to persuade the Royal Judges that since they were a rose's cousin they should therefore count as a purple rose. The best part of her argument had been where she had claimed that since the royal bloodlines had been corrupted it was time to allow that corruption into those of flora and fauna as well. Thankfully his gran had seen through her pretence and kicked her and her violets out before Neville could even ask if she'd ever be willing to wear a strap-on in bed. Not that he would've dared ask something like that in front of Gran anyway.
The date today marked exactly one month before his thirtieth, or as Neville had taken to calling it, doom. He wasn't sure what would happen if no-one had presented a perfect flower before that day but he did know that he didn't want to be anywhere near his gran if that actually happened. He'd probably end up married to the stable keeper's daughter, and Pansy looked more like someone who belonged in the stable herself than anything Neville could see himself spending the rest of his life with. Overall, he was really hoping that somewhere in today's batch of wilted and jilted there would be at least someone who didn't churn his stomach.
The day's offerings started like any other, and finally Gran gave up and left him in charge of overseeing the four left for the day. Neville made it through two quickly, one bringing a flower that was pink and the other coming with no flower at all. The second last spent over ten minutes trying to convince Neville that yellow really was the new purple. Finally losing patience and having her removed, Neville took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and beckoned his staff to bring in the last choice of the day. Taking a moment for himself, he counted to thirty before opening his eyes...
...and nearly fell off his throne when he saw what was standing before him. The first shock came from the flower being held up for his viewing pleasure – a rosebush growing beautiful purple roses caught in that perfect moment just before they opened to full bloom. Only once the shock from someone actually succeeding in this bit of nearly impossible Herbology had faded did Neville notice that it wasn't one of the countless fair maidens who had been parading before him for months, but in fact a man. A rather odd-looking, yet handsome, man.
They spent almost a minute staring at each other in awkward silence, each clearly attracted to the other, before Neville finally found the ability to speak. Starting with the same sentence he had with everyone before, he sputtered, "Tell me about your flower."
The other man smiled down at the plant in his arms. "This is Lulu." He stroked a finger along one of the vibrant plum blossoms. "I've been working on her for two years now. I had been making white roses purple for years with coloured water, but after a while you just want the real thing. And so, I started trying to find it." He paused for a moment before saying less confidently, "my mother always loved roses and purple was her favourite colour. They remind me of her."
Neville nodded, completely understanding. "It is lovely," he said in awe. Getting up and walking forward, he asked, "May I examine it more closely?"
"Of course." Lulu was held forward so that Neville could lean over and sample her bouquet.
"Astonishing. You've managed to make it sweeter." Neville offered his hand then laughed when the other man gestured that he couldn't shake due to the rather large plant. "Sorry about that. And I'm sorry about my manners. I haven't yet introduced myself. My name is Neville Longbottom. With your permission I would like to have someone take your flower to my gran. She has been waiting a long time to see something like this."
"Harry Potter," he replied. "And of course you can take it to her. I expected she'd want to judge it for herself before allowing me to marry you."
Neville had been examining the flower again as Harry spoke, but now, startled, he looked up and met Harry's eyes. "You . . . me? Marry?"
"Well, yes," Harry said, his face beginning to colour. "I mean, that is what the person who grows a purple rose is awarded, yes? And since gossip has said for months now that none of the women have interested you . . ." Harry's voice grew soft. "I'm sorry. Apparently I presumed too much."
Neville shook his head with a small smile. "No actually. You didn't." He beckoned to the man guarding the door. "Colin, can you please take this plant down to my parents' room? I'm sure Gran will have further instructions for you after doing so."
"With pleasure, Master Neville."
Once Colin had gone, Neville continued. "You didn't presume at all. This whole thing was Gran's idea so that I could become what she calls a properly situated man." He sighed. "You can imagine how I've felt about it all, considering."
Harry took Neville's hand in his own and gave it a squeeze. "Then I'm glad I was the one who was successful. Perhaps we can each be exactly what the other person has been hoping for."
"I'd like that," Neville answered, which led to Harry using their connected hands to pull Neville into his arms.
"So would I," Harry said before reaching up and kissing him.
Neville had just gotten up the nerve to reach down and cup Harry's arse when the door flew open across the hall. "Can it be true? A real purple--" Gran stopped immediately when she saw the two men in each other's arms. "Neville Longbottom, what is the meaning of this?"
Stepping back, Neville gestured towards Harry. "Gran, I'd like to introduce you to the successful creator of the purple rose, Mr. Harry Potter."
"Impossible!" Gran spat with disgust. "There is no way this . . . this piece of penniless trash . . . this man . . . there is no way he grew such a beautiful flower."
Visibly upset, Harry snapped, "And just what is it about me that makes you so angry, ma'am? Is it the fact that I'm poor, that I'm male, or that I'm gay? Or is it that I could actually make your grandson happy?"
"Such insolence! How dare you, in my own home? First you pollute my grandson with your filthy ways, and now you say such things!"
"Pollute?" Harry yelled, clearly incensed now. "Your grandson has a right to have some say in how he lives his life. Maybe if you weren't such an insolent cow you would realize how miserable he is. Everyone in the kingdom realizes it except for you! The entire village keeps sending their daughters up here to try and rescue him just so they can finally see him crack a smile."
"That's enough!" Neville glared at both of them. "I won't have my future husband and my grandmother fighting like this."
"There will not be a marriage. I forbid it!" Gran pulled out her wand, "And you, Mr. Potter, will make an oath saying you will never see my grandson again, and never speak of what happened here today."
Harry glared at her with arms crossed. "I will not."
"Then I will ensure it." Gran flicked her wrist and Harry immediately collapsed to the floor.
Neville crouched and pulled Harry into his arms. "What did you do to him?"
"He will sleep for one hundred years. By the time he breathes once more, he will wish he was dead and no-one will remember who he was. And you will marry another." Content with leaving the servants to take care of Harry's body, Gran left, leaving Neville to cradle the man he loved and cry.
-------
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
Neville grimaced as the floor squeaked under his feet again. The weak spot had grown worse each day he'd spent pacing, and today it was excessively annoying. He didn't need anything else distracting him. True to her word, Gran had planned a wedding for the eve of his birthday, and Neville had no clue which woman she had roped into playing the role of the bride. Honestly, he didn't care. He'd been locked in his rooms since Gran had found him unwilling to leave Harry that evening; the staff had been told not to talk to him when delivering his meals and no matter how many times he had asked for information he had gotten none. So now he had no freedom, no future, and no Harry. His birthday was in two days and all Neville could think about was how he could get back to his love.
A few hours later, Neville was awoken by the sound of his door opening. "Who's there?" he instinctively called out.
"Master Neville," gasped a quiet voice. "Please!"
Please what? Neville wondered as he stood up and made his way to the door. It was Colin, carrying what at first looked like a giant rug. As Neville looked closer, he gasped. "Quick!" he whispered, "Bring him in and put him on the bed!"
The two men struggled until Harry's body was peacefully stretched out across Neville's bed, arms crossed on his chest. "Colin, how can I ever thank you?" Neville asked, looking up to discover that Colin was slowly making his way out of the room.
"Just don't tell her it was me. And if she ever finds out, take care of my brother for me. Dennis works in the kitchens and is dreadfully shy." He started to close the door then opened it and stuck his head in once more. "Just, be happy." Colin closed the door, leaving Neville alone with Harry.
Once alone, Neville placed his palm against Harry's cheek and marvelled over how much it looked like Harry was dead. He took strength though from the normal warmth and feel of the skin beneath his hand.
"I'm so sorry," Neville whispered, sitting down on the side of the bed and taking one of Harry's hands in his own. "You didn't deserve this." He gave Harry's hand a squeeze. "You were just trying to find some happiness."
Neville sat silently for a few minutes trying to make sense of everything. He wanted to curl up and lie in bed forever, to hold Harry until the spell wore off, keeping evil away and protecting his love until he could again protect himself. Instead he had less than a day before someone would tear him away — possibly forever — and he needed to come up with a plan. That meant more pacing; but before that — one kiss, one kiss to prove that Harry was actually here, and to try and let him know through the spell that Neville wasn't going to leave him.
Neville stood and leaned over, gently kissing Harry on the lips. "I'll think of something," Neville promised, as he stood up and walked to the window.
"Something for what?"
Neville spun so fast he almost fell over. "HARRY!" he yelled as he ran to the bed. "You're awake!"
"Awake?" Harry said in a voice gruff from lack of use. "What happened? The last thing I remember was arguing with your gran."
Neville opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by the opening of his door.
"What is the meaning of this?" Gran said stomping her cane on the ground. "Why are you screaming out Harry's na—" Gran looked toward the bed and saw Harry beginning to sit up. "But how did you—?" She looked at her grandson. "What did you do? There's only one way to end that spell early. But that would mean . . . "
"I kissed him," Neville answered, blushing slightly as he noticed the smile break out on Harry's face at the news. "I kissed him and he woke up."
"You love him," Gran whispered looking at Neville in horror. "That's the only way. And he, he must love you too."
"I do," Harry said, standing up and walking over to take Neville's hand in his own. "And I want to marry him."
Gran looked between the two men in front of her. "Well then," she sighed. "I guess that means our wedding will have another bridegroom instead of a bride."
"You really mean it, Gran? You're going to be okay with this?" Neville asked, hope clear in his voice.
"I can't deny true love," she admitted. "And he did grow the rose." Gran looked at Harry. "But that means you have to leave this room, now! It isn't proper to have a soon-to-be married couple sharing a room unchaperoned. So out! Colin will find you some quarters."
Neville and Harry grinned at each other before sneaking in a kiss goodbye behind Gran's back.
-------
Watching his husband dance with Pansy, Neville couldn't be happier. True to her word Gran had replaced her chosen bride with Harry, and everything had been perfect. The reception had lasted for hours before fading into a dance, and now Neville itched with impatience to get Harry to himself once more.
The final strains of the song played and Neville quickly slipped onto the floor and bowed before Harry.
"May I have this dance?" he asked with a huge smile.
"Of course," Harry answered with a laugh before excusing them from Pansy. Neville led them across the floor, holding Harry close before whispering in his ear, "Follow my lead."
Harry did, and soon they were away from their guests and back in what was now their room. "I've been waiting all night to do this," Neville admitted, closing the door behind them and pulling Harry into a deep kiss.
A moan was his answer as Harry wrapped his arms around Neville's neck and deepened the kiss, running his tongue along Neville's. A battle of dominance began, with both men pulling on buttons and control of the kiss switching back and forth. Soon Harry's legs were backed against the footboard of the bed and Neville guided Harry down until he was lying on the mattress.
Neville stood and made quick work of his own trousers and pants until he stood naked between Harry's legs. Very slowly he pulled the zip down on Harry's trousers, delighting in how Harry squirmed to try and make him go faster. Only once the zipper was all the way down did he run his hands around Harry's waist, pinky fingers beneath the waistband of the trousers, teasing.
"Please," Harry begged, making Neville grin in delight. He pulled the trousers all the way off then leaned forward and breathed over Harry's now very demanding erection. Neville ran his tongue up Harry's length over the cloth of his pants, causing Harry to push his hips forward.
Neville ignored Harry's plea, instead tugging Harry's pants down and standing back to admire the feast that was spread out for him on his bed. "You're gorgeous," he said, looking into Harry's eyes.
"Please," Harry panted, reaching to try and pull Neville back down.
"Patience love," Neville cautioned. He knelt beside Harry and started playing with Harry's nipples, "We have all the time in the world now."
"That's easy for you to say," Harry gasped as Neville tugged on a nipple with his teeth. Neville silenced him with another kiss as he lay down atop him and pulled their arms up to hold Harry's hands above his head.
"I love you," Harry said as the kiss ended and Neville began to move, rubbing their hips together.
Neville used one hand to hold both of Harry's and reached down to grasp both of their erections. "Love you too." He started to stroke them both, loving the friction created by his cock rubbing against not just his hand but Harry's erection as well.
There were no more words as they lost themselves to the feelings and sensations and soon Harry was coming over Neville's hand, the sensation triggering Neville's own release. Collapsing on top of Harry, Neville quickly rolled over and pulled him into his arms. Lying there in his bed with Harry in his arms and vases of purple roses surrounding them, Neville knew he had found his happily ever after.