Entry tags:

2009, fic, severus/neville

Gift for leni_jess: Released, Part 2 (Severus/Neville)
Title: Released
Author: florahart
Recipient: leni_jess
Rating: marginally NC17
Words: 11,275
Warnings: none
Summary: Severus is good with being out of the way and alone after the war; however, after a visit from an old friend and an odd encounter with a former student, he finds maybe it's not the only possible way he wants to live.
Disclaimers: HP is not mine.

Part 1



"Professor?"

Longbottom had left him mostly alone since the time he'd appeared next to him in the shop, but it had been a month and a half and in that time they'd seen each other several times, in passing. Severus was beginning to wonder whether the boy had taken up a second job in Hogsmeade or something of the sort, though why he would have done so was something of a mystery, as his parents were certainly wealthy enough.

It wasn't, therefore, entirely a surprise to find him nearby, but this was the first time he'd walked right in and joined Severus at the table. As ever, he'd seen him come in, but he'd gone back to his soup, not expecting the company in the next seat.

"Longbottom." He never really knew what to say, once the original issue of the novel had been discussed; there was only so much conversation about inks, parchments, and potions ingredients one could have, especially since Longbottom was one of a handful of people who was aware that Severus had no real need of potions ingredients in his current line of work.

Although he had brought a rather surprisingly helpful bundle of odds and ends the last time they'd met; he'd seen Severus in the book shop and, in a somewhat bizarre interaction that Severus wasn't quite sure why he'd gone along with, had held up a finger and said through the window, "Wait there." He'd gone away, presumably home, and been back in a few minutes with a basket covered neatly in a damp towel, and then he'd been on his way.

Severus had been so surprised he'd nearly left the shop without paying for the paperback edition to the Klein book, and had gone home without stopping for lunch. The basket had turned out to include supplies for brewing something for the headaches he still suffered, as well as a recipe for a healing paste for the taut angry skin around the edges of the scar. He'd brewed up a batch after a thorough analysis of the likely outcome, and the stuff was on his throat now, a thin layer under his scarf. While he hadn't seen any real improvement in the tissue's appearance or the way it felt under his fingers, he'd found other more practical improvements; the salve had helped desensitize the skin so that he was more able to wear heavier clothing, when he'd a need, and also, it had--he thought; it was summer now so he couldn't easily test the theory--shrunk the needles-and-fire sensation of thawing that he'd experienced the past several winters.

He supposed he owed a mention of this, a comment on the effectiveness, an offer of thanks, but he wasn't quite sure how to begin. After all, any of those things acknowledged the reasons the scar annoyed him and also the fundamental thoughtfulness of the gift, and since he didn't usually talk to people he didn't know fairly well about it, it was awkward to do so now.

Only, he rather wanted to.

"I found the recipe, in the herb bundle," he finally said.

"Oh? Did it help?" Longbottom pursed his lips. "I mean, if you wanted to try it. I know my record on the potions front is rather less than ideal."

"Rather."

"But I came across a mention, in one of the quarterlies, and since I did have some of the things they mentioned, and since also my problem with potions wasn't really ever theory so much as practical application, I thought it might come in useful. Er, assuming your scar is anything like any of mine."

"You have scars?" Well, that was a stupid question, Severus thought. Everyone had scars of some sort, didn't they? At least from an emergency appendectomy as a half-blood child of age seven, or from the time they fell out of a tree and landed on their elbow at nine and didn't tell anyone to avoid punishment.

"Not like yours. Yours is huge."

Severus raised an eyebrow and told his brain to cease considering Neville Longbottom, his pornographic parents, and other instances in which such a phrase might be used immediately. "You haven't seen it," he said.

"No, but I've heard the part I can see up here is not at all most of it, so I can figure. But anyway, none of mine are like that. I just have ones from the Carrows, and a couple of odds and ends from childhood. The ones from the Carrows sometimes sting for weird reasons, though, even yet, so, you know, magical wounds and problems with healing and stuff."

"Yes, I believe mine does qualify for all of that," Severus said. "And yes, I did brew it, and I believe it has helped, somewhat. I shall have to wait for winter to see if it helps make it less bothered about getting cold."

"You could live somewhere that isn't Scotland," Longbottom said.

"I could, but I'm fond of my privacy, and I'm used to my home. Also, there are no real wizarding villages in the south end of Britain, or not many, and I like being able to freely use magic for whatever the fuck I want too much to live amongst Muggles."

"You could live in the countryside. Though I don't know why I'm arguing; I just thought it odd that you'd decide to live somewhere that does get cold, when cold bothers you."

"Perhaps it won't be an issue, now that I've this very helpful salve to drive the burn away."

"True. Anyway, I'm glad you gave it a try. I was wondering, though, if I could get your help with something?"

"I suppose this means you were expecting some sort of quid pro quo?"

"No. Just, you know about them and have seen them and all, and it really is time to do something about the house. Plus, you had the memories, and you...well, you used them in a way that actually sort of works out to be kinder to them than letting them romp about my ceiling until I die of old age. So I was wondering if you'd be willing to help."

"You want my help doing what, exactly?"

"Helping my parents move on. They're mindless, so they're barely even ghosts, and it just seems I really ought to let them go."

Severus shook his head. "What did you have in mind?"

"I've asked a couple of people--Bill Weasley, for one, and Hermione, who I know isn't really your favorite person, but she's really good at research--"

"I have no issue with Miss Granger. Not any more. She is a know-it-all, but I can't object to her research or her tenacity, and intelligence is no crime."

"Oh. Well, no, but...never mind. Anyway, and they've some ideas. I can't do any of them alone, as they require one person to focus the charm and someone else to handle the incantation and other stuff, but I don't think it would be too hard or anything."

"I wasn't concerned about the difficulty."

"What? Bugger, no, I didn't mean to imply you were some sort of half-wit."

Severus snorted. "I should hope not," he said. "Coming from you--"

"Hey!"

"I was just going to say, coming from the boy who took half of Hogwarts under his wing, that year, it would probably mean you'd been possessed by something quite evil indeed, and I will be fucked if I'm going to fight in any more battles against terrible evils, ever, so you'd be right out of luck."

Longbottom chuckled. "Nice save."

"It was that obvious?"

"Only if one is older than, say, three, and familiar with the English language."

Severus chuckled again. "Sarcasm from a Longbottom!"

"Sorry."

"Why? I wasn't complaining, merely commenting on the unlikelihood, given past interaction."

"Yes, well, from my end, past interaction includes humiliation, fumbling, punishment, and generally not being very adept, so you'll forgive me if I avoid using it as a template."

"Point."

"Anyway, are you interested?"

Severus thought about this for a moment, then nodded once. "I believe I am. When did you have in mind?"

"Bill says his approach would work best under a full moon."

"I hate full moons."

"Why?"

"Never mind. Go on."

"Hermione says phase of the moon doesn't much matter, but that it should be on the cusp of something astronomical."

"What, just anything? Star sign or season or anything?"

"I guess? What if I just send you both formulas, and maybe you could help me decide which to use anyway."

Severus briefly wondered how they'd gone from essentially speaking acquaintances with a poor history to trusting almost-colleagues with almost nothing in between. Still, wondering was no reason to stop the progression. He pursed his lips. "That would be acceptable."

"Cool."

"Cool?"

"Sorry. This happens when I spend much time around Ron. Which, if I'm spending time around both Bill and Hermione, you see how he might rub off."

"Bill, yes; Hermione: I assume this means they've remained in a relationship? I don't take the papers, so it's only what I hear in passing."

"Oh, right, you said. Yes, they're supposed to marry at some point, although I think she has a list of 437 things that need to happen first, so I hope he doesn't mind a bit of a wait."

"Of curiosity, I certainly have heard some things about your various school-time associates. Someone said the other day that Miss Lovegood was considering her options--apparently there are two young men wooing her?"

Longbottom grinned. "Seven, I think, actually. It's kind of mad, but she's, well, she's Luna, and things that are totally mad for other people seem perfectly sensible to her. I think she has a days of the week dating system working for her."

"That's absurd."

"I know. But yeah, she's probably the most involved person I know. Harry and Ginny will probably go on and get married soon. Ron and Hermione, eventually. Seamus and Hannah. Lavender and some, I think she said footie-playing bloke from the west. Dean keeps having relationship troubles, but I think he's just not ready to settle down. Why do you ask?"

"I just wondered--for getting rid of ghosts, usually one asks family. I know you've no one close, but I'd have thought a paramour--"

"Oh, well. For one thing, can you imagine bringing a date home in the house recently?"

"There is that. Most young ladies or even young floozies would probably blanch a bit."

"Exactly. Also, there's the problem of how they're always watching. Even though they're essentially mindless, it's still a little weird."

"Right." Severus finished his bread and wiped his mouth. "Then, I shall await your letter, and be in touch soon. If you want a moon, there's one in ten days; if it's to be, hm. Solstice is the soonest, I suppose, and that's sooner."

"I don't think there will be a lot to prepare, either way. I mean, there's a potion in one of them, but it's not one with a lot of delicate timing." Longbottom stood, and Severus pushed back his chair and did the same, extending his hand to seal the deal.

"*"

The house had slowed, Severus thought as he approached along the walkway. The plant walls were still rippling and strange, but they were more waving now than writhing, and he wasn't so sure every bit was still in motion. Maybe this was why Longbottom was ready to let them move on--maybe it was disconcerting to watch them "die" again.

He stepped up to the door and rapped twice, though rapped wasn't really the word since the soft fibers of something like a gladiolus was in the way to muffle the sound.

Longbottom opened the door immediately. "Hullo."

"Your house is calmer."

"I was out, earlier, procuring the last of the necessary supplies. It stopped while I was gone. If we wait a bit, it will get more...fervent. Possibly manic."

"Ah." Well, there went that theory.

"Come on, the sitting room's all cleared out so we can work in there. Plus, in general it's a good space for it; they tend to keep themselves in the center of the ceiling, mostly, and it's flat and even and whatnot."

"I don't know that that's hugely important, but it can't hurt." Severus followed Longbottom into the sitting room in which they'd observed the frivolity before.

The room had, indeed been cleared. The carpet remained, and a table exactly in the middle, but otherwise, there was no furniture and nothing on the walls. It looked abandoned. Severus crossed to the table and ran a finger along the edge, approving of the old oak and simple construction.

"Well?" Longbottom looked at him across the table. "We could have a cup of tea first, probably not in here since having tea standing around an empty room would probably just call my Gran back from the grave and then we'd have even more trouble. Or we could save refreshments for after."

"After," Severus said gruffly. He examined the materials on the table. The potion, he'd brought with him, and he pulled it from his pocket to set next to the plain carved birch bowl and the silver square with its rounded corners and concave faces, into which they'd pull the energy that was locking the Longbottoms here.

"Right, I thought you'd rather just get on with it." Longbottom looked up. "Of course, now, for once, they haven't followed me in here straight away. Obstinate ghosts, they are."

"Or, they know you want to be rid of them."

"I don't. Want to be rid of them. I want them to not be stuck here, and also possibly move on to somewhere they can be whole. Having parents that are present hasn't exactly been a terrible hardship for me, except with the whole watching and having sex thing."

"It must have put a crimp in your lifestyle, though."

"I don't really have a lifestyle. Just a life, like anyone else. I eat, work in the greenhouse, read, sleep. Occasionally spend a few hours with friends, which is the only part that's been a little weird. But then, I never really had very many friends, so I can't say that it's made any sort of a problem in that regard."

"You make your life sound, if you don't mind my saying, rather pathetic."

Longbottom chuckled. "Not really. Just simple. So. Just to make sure, you're going to do the magic, and I'm going to handle the physical materials?"

Severus nodded. Despite that he'd had a moment's concern about that, because Longbottom didn't have a history that suggested a dearth of clumsiness, he was aware the boy who had marred his first-year class so often was not the same as the boy who had proved himself in his seventh year, so he'd told himself to get over it, and had.

"Right, So, all right. I wonder how much longer they'll be." Just then, his parents crossed the threshold, curving weirdly over the molding and sliding their way into the room, gliding on to the ceiling and settling in the middle. They continued ignoring everything but each other, and Severus continued his previous practice of mostly avoiding watching them.

He wondered whether ghosts ever experienced a problem with being able to continue doing that for hours--weeks, months, whatever--on end, but didn't voice the question.

Longbottom glanced up, then picked up the flask Severus had just set down, and took a deep breath, then poured the thin blue fluid into the bowl. As it ought, it seeped into the unfinished wood and turned it dark, so he took up the square of silver and placed it in the center of the bowl as Severus cast the incantation.

It was, as expected, a simple enough ritual; the parts weren't expensive nor rare, and the magic itself was something most teen-agers could handle. However, Bill's notes had suggested they account for the unpleasant effect of being subjected to the aspects of death that hadn't yet occurred, since ghosts were not, quite, dead, and Severus had steeled himself for that.

He was nearly sure he'd felt and seen every aspect there could be, in his time, but this was a different sort of death, and perhaps he was wrong. And, this was also an unusual sort of exorcism; usually ghosts were relatively whole, and usually they wanted to go. Anything was possible, as he spoke the last of the phrases and directed his wand in a perfect circle pointing around the two on the ceiling.

After a moment, the air in the room changed, a sort of odd chill that seemed to pull the heat directly out of him through his clothing; it wasn't quite anything he'd felt before, but it wasn't awful, just irritating.

Until it reversed, pushing heat into him as though it were tangible, rough like a cat's tongue and scalding like steam from an untended kettle. The edges of the scar burned as though they were boiling, and Severus grimaced, sparing a brief glance at Longbottom. The boy was holding the solver square in place, gripping tightly, his fingers white and pinched with the pressure of it all. His jaw was set firmly, and tears were welling in his eyes.

Severus wondered what this all felt like, to him; tears weren't totally unreasonable in response to pain, but he'd never seen him respond to it that way before, and the boy had certainly managed to suffer plenty of painful accidents in class and at the school.

He pressed his teeth together and looked back up, maintaining the closure of the circle with his wand. The Longbottoms, still entwined, were both glaring furiously, their eyes still empty, at their son. Well, yes, that probably would be painful, whatever the emotion of it was. The circle glowed pink and contracted, pressing them into an odd shape that became odder as the contraction continued and the pink deepened.

And then it was over in an instant. The pink coalesced to a bluish silver and crumbled into a weird twisted cone, then swirled down into the square in the bowl. Longbottom pulled his hands free just as the square melted and the potion trapped in the wood released, splashing in to cool the heat of it all.

Severus found himself on the floor on his arse unexpectedly fast, and he couldn't help the groan in his throat. It felt as though the scar were swelling. Growing and trying to choke him. With something sharp. He closed his eyes and let himself slump back to the floor, since the other choice seemed to involve losing consciousness, which would have the same effect.

A moment later, there were hands at his collar, loosening it. "Sorry, I didn't know," Longbottom said. He sounded stuffy, as though he had a cold; probably that was for the same reason as the welling tears, but Severus didn't open his eyes.

"Didn't know what?" Severus managed, not quite opening his jaw as he tried to slap away the persistent fingers. The air in the room was changing again, the residues of whatever had burst when they'd been removed settling into something disturbingly arousing and oddly familiar.

"That they'd be so angry. Were they angry at you, too?"

"Hard to say." The familiar arousal was intensifying, and Severus suddenly recognized it, gasping. "Shit."

"What?"

"Bellatrix."

Neville blinked and looked around. "What?"

"Bellatrix. You can feel it? The air?"

"The air? It feels stuffy. And, er. You wouldn't be interested in the rest."

The pain in Severus's scar was starting to recede, and with it, other sensations were coming to the fore. "The rest?"

"Yes, the other feelings. Which I guess are from them, and will go away, right?"

"I suppose. They are getting worse, though."

"So that's what you're referring to?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "I suppose we could stop dancing around the topic. The lust, along with the other part. You felt it as anger, and I felt it as pain, but probably that's because they may very well have associated me with what happened. By the time Bellatrix was here torturing them, and evidently quite enjoying it, they'd have known what my loyalties were supposed to be."

"What?" Longbottom's face crinkled in confusion. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'd guess the reason they've been fucking constantly--"

"Oi. Parents."

"Yes, but they haven't been exactly themselves, and I'm going to guess that somehow Bella's insane and quite perverse interest in the torture of them got stuck into the moment, when they lost their minds in the first place. It wasn't in the memories I saw, but it still remained. They were angry because they didn't want to have been stuck like that."

"And I kept them there?"

"Oh, I suppose that's possible, but I don't think they were really angry at you."

"That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me.""

Severus shook his head, involuntarily squirming at the ever-increasing feeling of needy lust. "That wasn't entirely my intent, but in general, I've tried to avoid being actively cruel, in the years since Voldemort fell. My point is, I doubt they had the wherewithal left to make particularly fine distinctions, and all in all, what they had left that had to be released into the room were two things: fury and sex."

"Ugh."

"Quite. And now you and I are stuck here in a room filled with both, and we want--"

"Sorry."

"Sorry, you're unwilling?"

"What? No. Sorry I'm not particularly...what you'd want, if, er."

Severus wondered if Longbottom was aware he was still unbuttoning, fingers stroking at smooth and not-smooth skin. Then he wondered when he'd stopped slapping his fingers away. Then he wondered why he wasn't doing the same.

Then he wondered whether it made any sense to try to explain any of this, or if they ought to just let the situation happen and work out the details after the fact. He let himself try to work this out for a couple of seconds, then mentally shrugged and reached for Longbottom's collar. Clearly they were both of a mind to do this, even though it wasn't precisely something either of them would have proposed, unaffected. They could work out the blame afterward.

He shook his head. His line of reasoning was entirely twisted, and he knew it.

Damn it.

Finally, he stopped unbuttoning and pressed Longbottom's hands flat on his own chest. "Stop."

"What?"

"Stop. We'll get to it, but I think the emotions in the room are forcing the issue, so..."

"Oh, and you don't want to?"

"No, I do, only, I spent a lot of years doing as forced, whether it was up to me or not, and I certainly can resist the temptation. And so can you. If you want to."

"What? Oh, well god, I know that."

"You do?"

"I can resist a lot of things, Snape. I can also tolerate a lot. But if you don't hate the idea, I'd rather just ...not. Resist."

"Even though it's spurred on by--"

"I'd want it anyway. Shut up, I wasn't exactly planning on mentioning the fact, and it's not like I've been going about pining or anything. But I would, and I think I'd like to go ahead and take advantage. It would probably make her hurl anyway."

Severus glanced at his conscience and told it to fuck off, that this was close enough to willing (and besides, he liked the reasoning behind the idea), and resumed unbuttoning Longbottom's shirt. "You might want to just leave that," he said. The pressure in the air was lessening, he thought; perhaps acquiescence had had that effect.

"Why?"

"Scar. It's ugly. And it's really unnecessary to fucking."

Longbottom smirked, an expression Severus wasn't sure he'd ever seen on that face, before. "I think I can handle it."

"Yes, this wasn't an assertion of your weakness. Just acknowledgment that it's not usually something anyone wants to see." Severus made his way to the last button of Longbottom's shirt and spread it open, laying his hands flat on the smooth skin there. The boy was still more heavy-set than Severus had ever been, even in the often-pudgy childhood years before adolescence set in--but his skin was firmly soft and even, and before he could think about it too carefully, Severus pushed up and licked.

Longbottom groaned, so he did it again.

"See? Licking is good," Longbottom said, before leaning down and doing the same in return.

Severus gasped. There was no hesitation, and contrary to his expectation that it might feel strange or odd to have any sort of attention given to the same skin that stung and itched in response to so many things, it felt nice. He pulled a hand free from where it was partially trapped between them and pressed it to the back of Longbottom's head, urging him to do it again.

Two minutes later, they'd got no further; they continued to lazily explore each other's torsos with their tongues and tangle their fingers in each other's hair.

"The pressure's gone," he said. Now, he wanted this because it felt good, but again, he felt some obligation to say something.

"Hmm," Longbottom replied, laving his way around one of Severus's nipples. "Mm-hmm."

He didn't seem inclined to stop, either.

Severus wormed his hand between them again and found the waistband of his trousers, popping the button and tearing at the zip as his other hand tore Longbottom's shirt-tail out of his and shoved down into the back, squeezing.

Longbottom lifted his head. "The floor might not be the most comfortable place we could possibly do this."

"Later." Severus squeezed again and pulled Longbottom into a position that allowed them to rub against each other.

"Nice," Longbottom said. "Not good for removing trousers, though."

"Good thing we're wizards," Severus said. He pulled his hand out from between them and reached for his wand, Banishing both pairs of trousers as well as his own boots and Longbottom's trainers, leaving them rubbing against each other through their pants, both of them panting.

"Lose the rest," Longbottom said, lifting off him enough to remove the friction.

"Unnecessary."

Longbottom tilted his head. "I can already see a hell of a lot of scar, you know."

"Still."

"Fine." He reached and wrapped his bigger hand around the one on Severus's wand and did it himself.

Severus scowled. "Longbottom--"

"I told you before to call me Neville. I have my cock dripping in your pubic hair; it seems calling each other by name would be in order."

"You called me Snape not ten minutes ago."

"True, though that was more for effect. Severus, please call me Neville."

Severus shuddered, both because, to his surprise, he rather liked being told what to do when it wasn't something cruel, and because he liked the sound of his name on the boy's lips. "Neville, why are you able to use my wand while my hand is on it? And why did you do that?"

"Honestly. You have to know I'm not weak, and you must not have hated the idea. And, because I wanted you to be very sure I still wanted this," Neville said, sliding their cocks together, "regardless of this." He shifted his weight to pick up a hand and traced down the side of the scar, along the raised edges and down Severus's ribs.

"Then, get on with it."

Neville grinned and thrust again, dropping down onto his elbows and nuzzling at Severus's throat, lapping and nibbling up to his ear and down to his collarbone over and over. He moved slowly, more slowly than Severus would have credited any young man would have the patience for, and hummed--mmmed--low as he moved, hands under Severus's shoulders, supporting and kneading and stroking, weight shifting from one side to the other as his fingers played down Severus's chest, stopping to toy with a nipple, continuing on at leisure.

"This is not," Severus said, more groan than speech, "getting on with it."

"Sure it is," Neville said. "Slowly. More fun that way." But he did move a little bit faster, pressing his hips against Severus's now, working that wandering hand between them to grasp both cocks and press them together. "Better?"

"Not bad."

Neville snorted and dropped his head. "Still loath to give anything resembling a compliment?"

"No, I just think you can do better. Or I can." Severus rolled suddenly, turning them over and changing the angle entirely, then lifting up. "Shall I tease you, then?"

Neville shrugged. "At this point, I'm game for nearly anything. I mean, after all, even if you were to decide you didn't want to do this, I now have a fairly clear mental picture to work with." He put both hands behind his head, elbows wide on the floor. "So. Do your worst."

Severus gaped at him for a moment, at the clear implication of mental picture, then narrowed his eyes. "You're still teasing me."

"Nope. I mean, not that I can prove it, though if you'd rather move things along, that's all right, too." He put out a hand and fetched a wand--Severus didn't see which one before it lifted behind him and out of his sight, and added, "Accio lube from my nightstand."

"From your nightstand?"

"Didn't want to get pelted with ones from other rooms, obviously."

Severus raised an eyebrow.

"What? Like it wouldn't be perfectly normal to keep some in, say, the bath, or perhaps in other parts of the house for if one has an unexpected urge..."

Severus groaned again. "You're not teasing me; you're torturing me."

Neville shook his head. "Nah. Not into getting off on other people's discomfort. Besides, what do you suppose the lube is for?" He handed it pulled down a small tub that had slapped into his palm over Severus's back. "Any ideas as to what to do with this?"

"No, I'm afraid I've no--" Severus snorted as Neville started to frown and interrupt. "Of course I know what to do with it."

"Then, as someone once said, get on with it." Neville pushed up against him again, cockhead slick and moist.

Severus shook his head and muttered about cocky Gryffindors trying to kill him, then rose up to his knees and unscrewed the lid.

"*"

The sensation of having the salve rubbed into his scar by someone other than himself was, Severus decided, probably worth a significant amount of trouble.

No, that was a lie. There was no probably about it. The cool smooth glide of fingers was almost enough to put him to sleep, and of course, someone else could reach every rough edge and wrinkle where he had to strain. And besides, then those fingers continued on, massaging his back, stroking gently along the curve of his arse, pressing down the long muscles of his thighs.

And then were followed by lips.

"What, you want more?" He didn't bother lifting his head, merely mumbling into the pillow of the bed they'd adjourned to some time earlier, after Apparating to his own home to get the stuff because much as sex on the floor had been fun, eventually the irritation of the scar from the weird chill and heat of the spell had won out over remaining there in a heap.

"Absolutely, but I can wait." Neville kissed his way back up. "What, you thought it was a one-off?"

"It seemed likely."

Neville paused, lifting away from Severus and lying beside him on the side opposite of where he was facing. "Did you want that? I thought we did rather well together."

"Longbottom--"

"Neville."

"You're quite sure about that, aren't you? Neville, I'm twice your age, mean, still a pariah, and generally less than eager to compromise about roughly eighty percent of everything."

"Yeah, well, I'm flexible, more than half your age, thanks, and not that interested in people's opinions."

"You can't be that flexible, barely more than half, and not caring about people's opinions gets old, after a time."

"You haven't had the opportunity to check, still more, and what, you've started being very concerned at this late date?"

"...No." Severus lifted up just enough to turn his head. "What do you want?"

"Wow, I thought good sex was a pretty good way to get things rolling, but I'm supposed to also have answers to life's big questions?"

"It's a fair question."

Neville shrugged and lay on his back again, looking up at the ceiling and once again resting his head in his hands. Severus resisted the urge to reach out and run his hand along all that bare skin. "I don't know, then. But it's not like I don't have a pretty good idea who you are, so trying to dissuade me with known information seems a bit absurd."

"But eventually--"

"And eventually any kind of relationship, sexual or otherwise, might change. I don't see the point in assuming doom."

"You wouldn't." Severus rose up on his elbows, looking down at his thumbs for a moment. "I'm afraid experience leads me to believe it's not a bad approach."

"Huh. I can see that, but then, I suppose I think for all it's not bad, it's not all that good, either. Is it?"

"Perhaps not. Still, I don't know that I can be the sort of person you continue to want to shag, and I don't want to get used to compromising only to--"

Neville laughed. "Right, well, okay, then for now, we'll just minimize the compromising. After all, if we don't compromise, then we can just fight, and then make up. Right?"

"And if I say, no, I think this was a product of Bellatrix and her perversity, nothing more, and I'd prefer we merely consider it an interesting evening?"

"That would be too bad." Neville shrugged. "Then I'd have to woo you. I told you before. I wouldn't have done this if I didn't want to, and I sort of have the idea you wouldn't have, either. There's no good reason not to see if we can keep wanting to. Plus, now I can leave my house for extended periods."

Severus blinked. "Uh. Assuming it doesn't actually fall down, now that the weird plant thing--"

"Oh! True. I suppose I'm going to need to check on that at some point. Maybe in the morning."

"So you plan to spend the night..."

"Between your legs, if it's up to me." He motioned. "Roll over, I'll demonstrate."

Severus sighed. "You realize if this ends badly, it's going to end...really badly."

"I thought it might. You realize Kingsley Shacklebolt totally set us up."

Severus was in the midst of rolling over, and froze. "What?"

"He's not stupid. And he knew I was feeling, I don't know. Not desperate or lonely, just, something. Anyway, it can't have been an accident he gave you a reason to come see me."

"Fuck. He said it was Potter that sent him."

"Yes, because Harry is well known for his tendency toward matchmaking. Well, you can kill him later. I have plans for you for now, and also, probably you should wait until you feel more thankful toward him. He has Aurors and shit."

Severus shook his head and flopped down on his back. "In that case, since I'm already used to you enough not to kill you for touching me from behind, I suggest you make me feel thankful."

"Right." Neville squirmed closer and set to work.


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