Confessions of A Turbulent Wallflower

For anyone still following, after a very long hiatus, I'M BACK! :)

My life has undergone a bazillion and a half changes since I've been gone; a new home, a new relationship, and a new career, to name a few.

However, I've decided that it's time to come back to my writing!

All this week, I'll be posting the endings to both fics I have in progress, as well as two brand new works I've recently started. I hope to see some familiar faces still around and going strong, and I look forward to getting back into the fanfiction groove.

YAY!

Balianblue

Walking into the bustling muggle marketplace, Charlie kept a close eye on Draco, who appeared to be attracting quite a bit of attention from the throng of people around them, both male and female. He also seemed quite oblivious to it, staring in awe at everything around him. It only them occurred to Charlie that Draco had most likely never been in, or anywhere near, a muggle market in his life. Not wanting him to get overwhelmed, Charlie grabbed his hand firmly and pulled the slightly bewildered looking Malfoy through the crowd until the stalls and people thinned out, and only a few shop doors carved into the side of buildings remained. Only when Charlie released his grip did Draco come out of his trance, noting the look of amusement on his guide's face. Charlie motioned to a store to the left with a black wooden sign that read "magazin pentru bărbaţi" on it.

"There are fancier shops in the larger markets, but right now you only need the basics and they're a lot further out. No need to get you all tired out before we get you to the reserve, right?"

Draco nodded apprehensively, eyeing the shop. It reminded him a great deal of the kind of stores his father used to frequent, and that in and of itself gave him a severe case of the heebie jeebies. Noting the tension, Charlie wrapped a friendly arm around his shoulder and deftly steered him into the store.

---------------------------

Draco had never seen such a wide variety of patterns and fabrics in his life. Did muggles really wear all this? He wandered aimlessly around the store, picking up random items, feeling them, looking at them, and then putting them back down.

"A putea I ajutor tu?"

Draco turned to the small Romanian man who had just addressed him and held up his hands in what he hoped was a gesture that seemed friendly and also conveyed his lack of understanding. The man narrowed his eyes and repeated his question once again, more slowly. Draco shrugged helplessly, scanning the room for any sign of Charlie. Relieved to hear his melodic baritone from somewhere behind him.

"Noi avem it jos contract , mulţumesc."

The man nodded tensely at Charlie and, throwing another dirty glare Draco's way, disappeared behind a rack of suits.

"What did you say to him?" Draco asked.

"Ah, nothing much. Just told him his mother was a goat. You know, the usual." Charlie said, casually examining his fingernails for dirt.

Draco openly gaped at him, and then smiled.

"That was a joke, wasn't it?"

Charlie smiled roguishly back at him and winked, "Well aren't we the bright one. Let's get you some clothes, yeah? Can't be lolly gagging around here all day like a bunch of women, can we now?"

Charlie spun around and picked up a pair of dress trousers, holding them up against Draco.

"What size are you?"

Draco looked sheepishly down at his trainers and mumbled something unintelligible.

"You're going to have to speak up, haven't the foggiest what you said"

Draco raised his head defiantly.

"I don't know."

Charlie was completely taken aback. "How can you not know what size clothing you wear? How did you get clothes before?"

And then it dawned on him. He has almost forgotten the one small detail: Draco was a Malfoy, one of the richest wizarding families in Great Britain. He had most likely never had to shop for clothing like this before. Knowing Lucius, all of Draco's clothes had most likely been tailor made to fit him. He looked at the very overwhelmed young wizard in front of him, and put his big brother skills to work. He playfully punched Draco on the shoulder.

"Well then, we'll have to get you measured, won't we? Where did that son of a goat go?"

Draco stuck his tongue out in response and spent the next few minutes being measured the muggle way (which he vowed to never have done again), as well as having seemingly endless amounts of clothing piled onto him. Suddenly he dropped the pile of clothes, whooping with excitement and startling everyone else in the store.

Charlie turned around to see Draco triumphantly holding up a pair of light wash muggle blue jeans.

"THESE", Draco started excitedly,"THESE are what I was telling you about, Charlie, See?" He gestured towards them grandly, as if they were made of gold. "They're trousers...and they're blue,"

Under normal circumstances, Charlie would have pointed out that there were many kinds of muggle pants that were blue, but Draco seemed all too pleased with his discovery. it wouldn't kill him to let him win this one round, would it?

"Of course Draco, I should have known that was what you were talking about. I feel quite the dunce." Charlie said, doing his best to fake contrition.

Draco positively beamed.

"Well, no harm done. Found them, didn't I? I think all this should be enough."

They walked out of the store in amicable silence, each clutching a few bags.

"So, do you feel up to swinging by the reserve for a bit? Meet the other blokes?"

Charlie carefully watched Draco's reaction. far be it for him to push the boy over the edge on his first day.

Draco chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully for a few seconds. "Is it going to be bad?"

Charlie winced at the honestly of the question. "It's not going to be fantastic, but I don't think it'll turn out as badly as you think. Most around these parts have never even heard of your father, Draco, and less than half of the handlers are from our neck of the woods...and i'll be there with you."

Draco grimaced, although he felt comforted that Charlie would be there with him. "Like pulling off a plaster, yeah? Might as well get it done with. Can we apparate?"

Charlie nodded, and they disappeared into the the thrumming mass of people.





**author's note: yes, another short chapter, but I'm writing quickly, and as one long scene, this just drug on like a funeral dirge, don't worry, next chapter will be longer, I promise.**

*FINALLY, updates. Sorry to anyone who has been waiting, or had given up on seeing more of me. Sometimes people drop off the face of the earth lol, but I'm back! Short chapter, yes I know, but I'm easing back into it. More in the next few days, while I have nothing but free time :)*



The light slowly filtered through the venetian blinds on Draco's window, casting stripes of light across his face. His eyes sluggishly opened and he was momentarily gripped by panic, unsure of where he was. It took mere moments for his sleep addled mind to settle, however, and remind him of yesterday's event. He didn't remember getting himself to bed, but then again, he had been very tired and things were bound to be forgotten.

Taking a deep breath, he sat up, the scent of what be breakfast wafting into the room, his stomach growling in approval. He languidly slid out of bed, and walked down the hall into the small shower, washing up as quickly and methodically as he could, before bounding back down the hall to his room.

And that's where Charlie found him 40 minutes later, standing in front of his suitcase in a towel, hands on his hips, willing an outfit to appear.

Charlie leaned against the doorframe and smiled, studying Draco as he removed each item of ghastly looking muggle clothing from his bag, sighed, shook his head, and neatly refolded it into the suitcase. If he were honest with himself, Charlie would also admit that he might have been ogling (but only a little bit), Draco's lean muscled form, admiring the play of muscle and sinew in his back as he bent to pick up each item.

Carefully, as not to be noticed, Charlie slipped into his own room, digging out some of his smaller clothes, and then to the kitchen, plating some eggs and toast for Draco, before returning to the doorway and knocking gently.

Startled by the sudden knock, Draco spun around, nearly losing his towel in the process, grabbing it just in time.

Charlie laughed mirthfully and chucked the clothes at Draco, setting the food down on the dresser.

"Thought you could use some clothes that didn't channel my dad's fashion sense."

Draco smiled brightly, hugging the clothes to his chest.

"Thank you Charlie, you didn't need to do that."

Charlie smiled gently at the genuine gratitude in Draco's eyes.

"I left you some breakfast on the dresser there, are you still up for some shopping today?"

Draco nodded distractedly, already halfway into the eggs, and Charlie closed the door behind him, and went to the sitting room to wait.

---------------------------------------

Never before had Draco been so in awe of simple items of clothing. He had devoured his breakfast and fixed his hair before even glancing at the clothes Charlie had thrown to him, and was now staring at them laid out on the bed.

Stretched out before him was a red t-shirt ("Ha...Gryffindors", he thought), and a pair of jet black leather pants. Draco slowed extended a hand, stroking the worn leather, his mind unconsciously wondering what they might look on their owner. Shaking away any inappropriate thoughts, he pulled the shirt over his head, surprised at how well it fit, and with a deep breath closed his eyes and wriggled his way into the tight leather pants.

---------------------------------------

When Draco walked into the sitting room, Charlie instantly regretted giving the lean blonde those clothes. What had he been thinking? What had looked like a mildly appealing little boy playing dress-up (he was Ron's age, for fucks sake!), now looked positively sinful, the dark red shirt and black leather pants fitting him almost perfectly, their darkness highlighting the ethereal pallor of his skin and the pale blonde of his hair.

Draco laughed, slightly self consciously and hitched his tattered rucksack further onto his back.

"So Weasley, ready to do some shopping?"

AHH! OK, i am the biggest slacker ever! I havent updated in a while, yes yes I know, but soon there will be many updates all at once, finishing off the stories i'm working on and debuting a new one as well.

I'm conflicted over whether or not "a song for the lonely" is finished yet. Any suggestions?

-Catt

After much deliberation, i've changed the format to something I felt was a little more "potter appropriate". Please feel free to link anything either here or at my personal journal, unless it belongs to someone else :)

A few silent minutes later, they passed through a row of small wooden cottages. Confused, Draco slowed down a bit and his change of pace tugged lightly at Charlie’s hand, causing Charlie to turn and flash him a foolishly lopsided grin.

“I thought it might be best if you didn’t stay with the other trainees and the people on-call on site in the barracks…nothing to do with you personally, I’m sure Draco, it’s just…”

“My father,” Draco grimaced slightly. “My family reputation, I understand, is less than gleaming, trust me, I understand.”

Charlie pursed his lips and nodded. “I thought you might stay with me, in my apartment for the time being. You’re more than welcome to stay for as long as you like, but if you find it…less than to your liking, I can help you find a place of your own.”

Draco smiled brightly at Charlie’s kindness; so few people had shown him that kind of courtesy since the end of the war, choosing to see his family’s name instead of his individual personality. “I’m sure your accommodations will be more than habitable, Mr. Weasley.”

Charlie chuckled and let go of Draco’s hand, the loss of the warmth tingling unpleasantly up Draco’s arm.

“Please, call me Charlie.”

Draco smiled tightly and tensed, and Charlie regarded him with keen eyes for a second before chuckling again and clapping him arm around Draco’s shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“Come on, let’s get you to my place and get some food in you. I hate to sound like my mother, but you look a little peaky.”

Draco pulled up the only mental image of he had of Charlie’s mother, which was Mrs. Weasley fussing over a smudge on Ron’s cheek in Flourish and Blotts and laughed ruefully, before twining his arm around Charlie’s waist and following his lead to the floo grate.


Draco stepped out of a floo grate for the second time that day, dusting his clothes off as best as he could, while scanning the room for Charlie, who appeared to have noticed what he was wearing for the first time.

Draco noticed Charlie gaping at him wide eyed and clearly in shock through a parting in the crowd and sauntered over.

“What? Dirt on my face?”

Charlie closed his mouth and blinked once, before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

“What in the blue blazes are you wearing?”

Draco looked down appraisingly and surveyed his baggy corduroy pants, beige button up shirt, and tweed jacket with patches on the sleeves. He looked up at Charlie, a look of pure confusion on his face.

“They said to dress myself in muggle attire. As I can recall, both your father and professor Lupin wore this as muggle dress, did they not?”

Charlie tried to quell the laughter, feeling badly at Draco’s lack of knowledge in muggle matters. His father had probably only pointed out the worst muggles to him, and he had most likely thought that the way he was dressed was quite fashionable for muggles, by example.

“Yes, but it’s more suitable for an older man…possibly someone’s poor bachelor uncle.”

Charlie choked back another fit of laughter.

“One who owns several cats.”

Charlie almost exploded with laughter anew when Draco nodded swiftly and took out a notepad to, bless his heart, make a note of what he was saying. Breathing deeply and regaining complete control, Charlie placed his hand on Draco’s shoulder in the most brotherly way possible.

“Perhaps tomorrow we should go shopping for you? We can’t have you wandering around looking like that. How are you going to attract the ladies, eh?”

Draco cringed inwardly, “I don’t think attracting ladies is quite up my alley, but I would like to go shopping if you’d take me. It seems I don’t know much about Muggle fashions.”

Charlie smiled warmly at him, “indeed, we’ll go first thing tomorrow after breakfast.”

Draco nodded enthusiastically as they started off towards Charlie’s flat.

“I want some of those Muggle blue pants.” Draco blurted out.

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Blue pants?”

Draco sighed as if talking to a child. “Yes, you know, the ones that are supposed to make your bum look nice. They’re pants. And they’re blue.”

Charlie dissolved into laughter at Draco’s attempt at explantion.
“Well tomorrow we’ll figure out what exactly those are, and we’ll be sure to get a pair, ok?”

Satisfied, Draco nodded, and the rest of their walk was in amicable silence.



Charlie’s flat was modestly sized and very obviously home to a bachelor. A few plain pieces of furniture were strewn about the apartment, but there were no accessories, and no clear design to the room, although, Draco noted, it was quite neat.

Charlie gave Draco a tour of the apartment, taking him through the basics before showing him to his room.

“You’re right next to me, should you need me. I’m going to give you time to unpack and get settled in while I start dinner. I thought we might eat out on the balcony tonight, and I imagine we won’t get too far past that. You’re probably quite tired from all that Floo travel.”

As if on cue, Draco yawned, and began to unshrink and unpack his things, almost finishing before the delicious scent of dinner wafted in through his doorway.

Walking out into the kitchen, Draco peered over Charlie’s shoulder to see what he was making, only to be tapped on the nose with a saucy wooden spoon.

Charlie smiled at the affronted look on Draco’s face as he wiped the sauce off, tasting it.

“If you could get some plates down, they’re in the far left cupboard.”

Draco gladly brought down the plates, his stomach growling, as they took their dinner out to the balcony and sat in adjacent chairs, eating in silence.

Sitting out there, overlooking the city, Draco thought of how lucky he was to be there, and turned to Charlie.

“I don’t believe I’ve thanked you yet for taking a chance on me.”

Charlie smiled warmly over at him. “Everyone deserves a second chance, Draco.”

Draco nodded, and they continued to sit in the comfortable silence until the sun was almost down, and the next time Charlie looked over, Draco was fast asleep, curled up in his chair.

Charlie gently brushed the hair from his forehead and hoisted his lithe body up against his own, and carried him to bed.

“Sleep well, Draco. Today was by far the easiest day.”

Fix You will now be known as "The Dragon's Fire"...all links have been changed accordingly :)

A Song For The Lonely (All Parts)
Title: A Song for the Lonely (multipart fic, in progress)
Author: Balianblue
Pairings: Remus/Neville
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17
Warnings: implied character death, homosexual sex
Disclaimer: the characters belong to the almighty Rowling, the love belongs to me.
Author's Notes: this will (soon, i promise) be a multi-part fic. Feel free to friend me if you want to keep updated.

Summary: A world destroyed takes thousands of people to rebuild, but it only takes one person to fix a broken man.

Link to all parts so far (updated daily):

http://balianblue.livejournal.com/…

March 4/08 - Chapter 11 up, 12 to follow

**as an aside, anyone who wishes to post their fics to my community, or keep updated on my fics, please join my community, dirty_howler, as I am going to stop posting to other communities with this story, and after this, it will only be found there, or through the link above to the complete chapter listing.**

all previous parts - http://balianblue.livejournal.com/…


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Into the under grove, twist and turn on a lonely road
In the twilight, the day turns to night and I'm alone
And when the night has left, I'm not sure of my every step
Follow the wind that pushes me west, back to my bed

When the night
feels my song,
I'll be home,
I'll be home."

Bedouin Soundclash- "When the night feels my song"


Neville rolled effortlessly onto his back, pulling Remus with him, and getting lost in his kiss. Remus adjusted himself quickly, eager not to break the kiss as he shifted his position on top of Neville, sliding their bodies together, both groaning at the sensation of rapidly-hardening cocks grinding against each other through the fabric of Neville’s trousers and Remus’ boxers.

Neville ran his palms flatly down Remus’ back, feeling the scars that marred his skin, his fingers dancing over them, as if taking stock. Remus shuddered at the touch, breaking the kiss and burying his face against Neville’s neck, placing hot, wet, opened mouth kisses along it, his tongue sneaking out to taste the sweat starting to form.

Neville moaning, his fingers digging into Remus’ arse, helpless under the barrage of sensations, caught between Remus’ ministrations on his neck and the fully hard cock grinding against him. Instinctively, he tilted his head back, exposing his neck, silently pleading for more, and heard Remus let out a deep, rumbling growl which vibrated through both of their bodies, sending a pleasant chill of excitement shooting up Neville’s spine, causing him to whimper with need.

Inside Remus, the wolf was dying to be let out, aroused by the unconscious display of submission and eager to claim Neville as his mate, and Remus fought for control to hold him back, not wanting to overwhelm Neville with the power of the beast. His body shook slightly with the force of the battle, and he lowered his head to Neville’s chest, resting his forehead against his collarbone, breathing shallowly, the scent of Neville’s arousal doing very little to quell the beast.

Concerned, Neville, gently put his hand against Remus’ face, feeling the stubble there, and gently tilted his face upwards. The question of whether or not Remus was ok or not died on his lips when he saw the wolf, barely restrained in Remus’ eyes. The predatory gleam in his eyes made Neville shudder with anticipation, and he understood why Remus had stopped. He smiled devilishly, and started to undress himself quickly, relaxing once he was only in his boxers and kissed Remus gently, kissing across his jaw and nipping at his earlobe, whispering in it.

“I’m yours.”

Remus swallowed hard, and Neville leaned back against the pillows and thrust his his upwards against Remus’, throwing his head back against the pillow and moaning, baring his entire chest and neck in a very deliberate show of submission, hoping Remus would understand.

If Remus didn’t, the wolf inside him most certainly did, and he growled fiercely as he covered Neville’s body with his own, biting and worrying at the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. He bit down hard and Neville yelped, but then moaned as the bite was laved with broad strokes of Remus’ tongue, and he made a noise halfway between a growl and a purr in Neville’s ear.

“Mine.”

He canted his hips forwards against Neville’s and reached down with one swift motion and ripped Neville’s boxers off.

Neville could only moan in response, more excited than he could ever remember being, his hand buried in Remus’ hair at the back of his head, pushing him down, encouraging him.

“Yours, Remus, all yours. Please mark me as yours.”

Remus let out a primitive sounding moan and bit down hard at the juncture between neck and shoulder, making Neville cry out in both pleasure and pain as coppery blood spilled onto Remus’ tongue, licking the wound clean. While he was marking him, Neville had enough sense of mind to grab his wand, muttering a few spells against his own hip. Yanking off Remus’ boxers, they groaned loudly in unison at the sensation of their bare cocks sliding together, the wolf desperate to rut against him, reveling in the delicious friction.

Neville tried to keep his head about him, and pushed Remus off a bit, the wolf whimpering in protest before realizing that Neville was canting his hips upwards, offering himself to be claimed.

“Please, take me, I need you Remus.” Neville moaned, thrusting his hips lewdly against the air, practically begging for release.

That was all Remus needed. Burrowing his face affectionately against Neville’s shoulder, he thrust into him with as much control as he could muster, trying to go slowly as not to hurt him. He continued for a few shallow thrusts at this pace, before Neville decided to take matters into his own hands, rolling his hips sharply upwards and impaling himself roughly on Remus’ cock, moaning as it hit his prostate.

The wolf rose again in Remus’ eyes, and Neville knew he had won out. There would be plenty of time for making love later, for now all Neville wanted was to be claimed and taken, by both Remus and the wolf.

Bracing himself on either side of Neville, Remus’ thrusts rapidly grew both faster and harder, pounding mercilessly against Neville’s prostate, turning Neville into a puddle of begging incoherence.


“Please, Remy, need to come…need you to come with me…all yours, please fuck me”

At the affirmation yet again of Remus’ claim over Neville, he bit down again over the previous bite, at the same time hitting Neville’s prostate with incredible force, sending Neville over the edge, unable to make any noise save for a few small noises as his back arched off the bed, his eyes rolling back in his head.

The sight and feeling of Neville’s orgasm was enough to push Remus’ orgasm as well, holding himself tightly against Neville’s body as his hips jerked involuntarily, a low rumbling moan reverberating against Neville’s chest.

They both collapsed and lay in the same position for what felt like an eternity, before Remus rolled heavily off of Neville and grabbed his wand, casting a quick cleaning spell over both of them, before snuggling up next to Neville.

“Did I hurt you?” Remus asked, his voice edged with uncertainty.

Neville turned towards him and smiled, satiated.

“Not in any way I didn’t enjoy.” He kissed Remus lightly on the nose and tousled his hair, causing Remus to chuckle lightly.

“Remind me to make you orgasm more often, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this calm”

Neville stuck his tongue out at Remus, pillowing his head against his shoulder and tracing patterns across his chest.

“I think a nap is in order, hm?” Neville yawned, and Remus nodded sleepily.


“There’s an eclipse tonight, you know.” Remus added, remembering what Charlie had told him., stroking Neville’s hair affectionately.

“mmm, I like the moon.” Neville answered, half asleep.

Remus looked down at him and smiled fondly. “And why is that?”

Neville snuggled further against Remus’ chest and whispered his answer, barely audible even to Remus’ lupine hearing.

“Because every time I see the moon, it brings me closer to you.”

Remus’ heart surged at the admission and his leaned down and kissed Neville’s temple, stroking his hair until his breathing became soft and even with sleep.

“Perhaps”, Remus thought to himself, staring down at his young lover, “nighttime will be much less scary from now on.”

Satiated, the wolf inside him agreed.

all previous parts: http://balianblue.livejournal.com/…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



"When you left I lost a part of me
it's still so so hard to believe,
come back baby please, cuz
we belong together"

"We Belong Together" by Mariah Carey

At first light, Charlie walked Remus over to the main building where the floo network grate was located, giving him a reassuring hug as Remus breathed in deeply and stepped into the grate, calling out his destination.

Remus quietly opened the door to number 12 Grimmauld Place, moving carefully towards the sitting room where Molly told him he would hopefully still find Neville. Entering the room, it didn’t take him long to spot Neville, still curled up against the wall, fast asleep, a blanket loosely draped over him.

Remus grimaced at the puffy, weary look of Neville’s face. He couldn’t bear to think that he had caused Neville all of that pain. He gently picked Neville up, careful not to wake him, and carried the smaller man up the stairs to his room, not wanting to enter Neville’s room because of the previous day’s events. Nudging the sheets on his bed downwards, he lowered Neville to the bed, letting him roll fluidly onto the mattress, but as he let go of Neville’s body, he felt hands gripping the front of his shirt in obvious distress. Remus pulled back a bit, and found Neville to be still sleeping, his brow furrowed with displeasure as he gripped Remus’ shirt and nuzzled against his neck. Remus smiled wistfully, wishing Neville were awake and making those delightful sighing noises against his neck, and, seeing no other option, crawled onto the bed next to Neville, letting him curl against him in a childlike display of comfort.

Remus kissed him on the forehead and, feeling the weight of previous day come upon him, he too drifted off to sleep, hoping that when Neville awoke, everything would work out alright.


As the daylight gradually filtered in the foggy window, Neville opened his eyes blearily, rubbing them with the back of his hand, taking a moment to take in his surroundings. He knew for sure that this was definitely not his room, yet still Grimmauld Place. He also was keenly aware of being pressed against another body, a heavy arm slung across his waist with casual familiarity.

“But it doesn’t feel like George,” Neville mused to himself, breathing in deeply and smelling Remus’ cologne.

Startled slightly, he pulled back a bit to confirm his suspicions that he was indeed pressed against his former professor. Smiling lightly, Neville took in Remus’ sleeping form, making note of the quiet snuffling noises he made as he breathed, and the delicate yet strong curve of his lightly stubbled jaw. He kissed the side of Remus’ jaw before trailing his fingertips down the side of his body, frowning slightly at the still too thin feeling of his ribs, despite no longer being impoverished, and reveling in how soft the older werewolf’s skin really was, pale from all the time Remus had spent avoiding the outside world. Neville made a mental note that he needed to get Remus to eat something substantial that morning, a thought that made him chuckle to himself, feeling slightly like Mrs. Weasley, who even tried to force feed the likes of him when he visited.

He leaned over Remus’ body to check the clock on the nightstand, which proudly pronounced it to be 10 o’clock in the morning. Neville stretched languidly, and proceeded to strip and cover Remus with the blanket, aiming to wash his clothes, before heading to the shower, and then down to make the kind of breakfast Mrs. Weasley would approve of.


Remus awoke at 11:30, feeling much better rested than he had in years, and reached over to where Neville’s body should have been. Coming up empty handed, he felt a wave of nausea inducing panic grip his insides. Had Neville left? Charlie had seemed so sure but still, maybe he was wrong.

And then the second wave of panicked awareness hit him. Where were his clothes? He sat up and scanned the room feverishly for any sign of his clothing, but apparently not only had his clothes he had been wearing disappeared, but the clothes customarily scattering the floor seemed to be gone as well. He sat there gaping at the spotless room for what felt like an eternity, until he was pulled out of his reverie by a throat being cleared by the doorway. He slowly turned his head, mouth still open in an expression of slack bemusement.

Neville was leaning against the doorframe, amusement clearly written across his face, his lips upturned in a coy half-smile, and one eyebrow delicately arched.

“Surely you can’t be so panicked about a clean room, Remy? I didn’t know it had been that long since you’d seen the floor, but honestly, carpet is your friend.”, Neville teased, walking over to the bed and setting down a wooden tray, practically groaning with the weight of the food piled on it.

His mouth snapping shut, Remus quickly gathered the covers against his body, acutely aware of his nakedness.

Neville chuckled and rolled his eyes, sliding onto the bed next to Remus, the tray in between them.

“You need to eat something, mate, or I’m going to tell Mrs. Weasley you’re underfed, and then you’ll have her shoving treacle down your throat.” Neville said, as he spooned large amounts of food onto a plate.

Remus shuddered at the mental image that created, and took the proffered plate from Neville’s hand, calming down a bit and thanking him before digging in.

They ate together more of less in silence, both resting their backs against the headboard, legs splayed out in front of them.
Finished his plate, Remus shot a wary glance over at Neville, who appeared to be long since finished and staring at him.

“Something I can help you with, Neville?”

Neville took his plate as well as Remus’ and set them and the tray gently on the floor, an then rolled back over towards Remus, lying on his side next to him.

Neville wrung his hands nervously, “you trust me, right?

Remus nodded tersely, staring at his own hands. “of course.”

Neville took a deep breath, “and we’re close friends, yeah?”

Remus looked at Neville and raised an eyebrow, “yes, you could say so.”

There was a moment of silence between them, the tension crackling brightly, highly tangible to both men. Remus spoke first.

“If you’re trying to tell me about you and George, I already know.”

Neville scoffed, “yeah, I know.”

There was another pause, but Remus let it be this time, watching Neville try to say whatever it is he felt he needed to.

“Why did you leave, before? I mean, I thought you of all people would understand me being gay…understand what it meant to be different.”

Remus tenderly cupped Neville’s cheek, and ran a rough thumb across his cheek, feeling the slight dampness of tears there.

“I don’t have a problem with you being gay, Neville. In fact, I support it wholeheartedly. We don’t get to choose who we love.”

Neville pulled back suddenly, his eyes meeting Remus’, brimming with tears.

“Then why did you leave? You haven’t been out of the house in ages, Remus, and something yesterday made you leave TWICE. I spent all day blaming myself, so I think I have the right to know.” Neville shook violently, the timbre of his voice echoing in the spacious room, his emotions threatening to overflow.

Remus tried to back off the bed, unsure of himself now. He couldn’t stand to cause Neville any more pain.

“I can’t tell you why I left, suffice it to say that it was not by any fault of yours.”

Neville roughly grabbed his forearm, holding him in place, next to him, his face reddening.

“THAT’S NOT GOOD ENOUGH. TELL ME WHY YOU LEFT!”

Remus struggled against Neville’s grip, but it held firm and he turned to face him.

“I CAN’T!”

“TELL ME!”

“NO!”

“BLOODY TELL ME ALREADY!”

At that, Remus’ thin hold over his control snapped, and he lunged forwards, pressing his mouth against Neville’s firmly for a few seconds before pulling back.

“I LEFT BECAUSE I SODDING LOVE YOU AND I COULDN’T STAND THE IDEA OF HIM HAVING YOU, ALRIGHT?”

There was an almost silence in the room, save for the sound of laboured breathing coming from both men. Their eyes locked in mutual surprise.

This time Neville was the first to break the silence.

“Oh.”

Remus exhaled quickly.

“Is that all you have to say about it?”

Neville fidgeted with his hands again, “No”.

Remus gawked at the younger man, “are you going to say whatever else it is that you’re thinking?”

Neville looked up sheepishly, “Only if you’ll kiss me again.”

Remus’ heart leapt from his chest, unable to contain himself upon hearing that, but attempting to keep a cool demeanor on the outside.

“That might be doable.”

Neville smiled brightly back at him, his cheeks flushing slightly, “oh, well in that case, I love you too.”

Remus swiftly grabbed the younger man and pulled him against his body, kissing him properly this time, and thought, as Neville twined his arms around his neck, that a day like this was worth all the bad ones that came before it.

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Part 11 - http://balianblue.livejournal.com/…