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Unforgivables	By : Bagheera Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2514 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Unforgivables
- 1
Unforgivables

Those who had known Neville Longbottom, Head of the Department of Law Enforcement in the Ministry of Magic as a schoolboy, never ceased to wonder about him. From a timid, plump and clumsy little boy he had changed almost unnoticeably in the course of his years. Those who still knew him and knew him well, knew that for Neville, the cause of his success was Harry Potter. He worshipped the man, even more so than anybody else, it seemed. He had been close friends in school with the boy who lived, or so people said. Now they weren�t in contact any more, but Potter still was Longbottoms big idol.

"Without Harry, I�d never come that far," he used to say quite frequently, whenever somebody commented on how fast he had advanced within the ranks of the ministry. At the age of 25 he now was Head of the Department of Law Enforcement and he did do his job well enough.

It had all begun years ago, in his fifth year, with the founding of Dumbledore�s Army. Back then, Neville had believed that he would never become a good wizard. He would never be a hero like Harry Potter, in fact, he would never even beragerage. His Grandmother and many of his Professors only encouraged his opinion in which he was barely more than a squib. But then the Army had taught him how two fight, in with the fierce determination two avenge his parents and with a lot of help from Harry, he had become quite a decent fighter. Of course this had boosted his self-confidence.
His grades became better and he became more and more self-assured and happy. With the defeat of Voldemort in their seventh year, he was ready to graduate and finally become independent from Harry, too. Now that his primary aim for years had been reached, and the Lestranges were dead, he started to work just as furiously t his career. But he never became a relentless prat like Percy Weasley while he worked his way up the ministry. He was not only respected, but well liked, too. Neville was responsible and always modest, he was fair, sensitive about peoples feelings, helpful and loyal. Add too that a lot of stamina with his work and he was the perfect colleague, except for maybe his tendency to be a little... well, some people said stiff. But actually he was only a little too serious. He wasn�t normally very funny or very much enjoying life.

As a child, Neville had always eaten a lot of sweets and had never liked to work or to difficult things. He had easily cried. As a man, he had developed a lot of almost rigid self-discipline, which had served him very well. He was now a very well-built man, neither plump nor fat. His height was average, his clothes always neat and his hair well kept. His face had lost a lot of its roundness and gained colour in turn. He wasn�t dashing in appearance, but still attractive.

So that was Neville Longbottom. Content, successful, young.

The day had begun quite peaceful. He had come to work on time, had started with looking up his correspondence, had received several letters. One had the seal of the Order of the Phoenix, a now official organisation on it, and was to inform him of several criminals being arrested, he only skimmed the text. The order was no longer lead by Dumbledore, who had retired after Voldemorts fidefedefeat, but by the infamous Harry Potter. A second letter was from L.C.T.C. � League for Correct Treatment of Creatures, an organisation founded by Hermione Granger, which continuously fought for the rights of House Elves, Goblins, Werewolves and other such people. The letter was to invite him to their yearly Easter ball. Some letters were by the Ministry � from Arthur Weasley, Minister or Magic, congratulating him to the low rate of criminality this year, and some reports by aurors. All in all, quite the usual.

Suddenly, the small bell on his desk rang and the voice of his secretary was heard in his office.

"Sir? There is a message from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad. They have a prisoner who wants to speak to the Head of our Department."

"Who is it?"

"I don�t know, Sir. He claims he needs to talk to you. He says he�s innocent."

"Well, he�ll have to tell this the Wizard court, not me."

"But he says he knows you."

"Knows me? Let him in then, for Merlin�s sake."

"Yes, Sir, he�ll be there in a minute." The voice went off. Neville chewed on his lip and stood up from his leather chair. He wandered to the window which showed him an outrageously bright and blue April day and a part of the Thames. Who could this be? He knew a lot of people, but they normally weren�t arrested by the Law Enforcement Squad. The wooden doors of his office opened and a group of four wizards entered, leading between them a man whose hands were bound by magical handcuffs. He was tall, very lean, with an air of natural arrogance around him, which, combined with his handsome looks and longish blonde hair played off quite well as graceful. Neville didn�t have to guess his age. He knew him in an instant, even though he did not wear his formal black wizarding schoolrobes any more and he was several years older. He was in fact just as old as Neville himself, but he appeared decidedly more youthful with his fashionable muggle clothes.

Draco Malfoy was wearing a pair of black jeans and a ruffled looking black shirt stating : �Mean People Succeed� in bold green letters. Neville thought it was somehow strangely ironic, seeing that Malfoy was currently chained and obviously accused for doing... whatever.

Malfoy, who had caught his look, smirked.

"This is Draco Malfoy, Sir. He has been arrested for dealing with dark c suc substances just last night. He also is under the suspicion of being an ex-death-eater," explained one of the wizards who had lead him in. "He claims to know you."

Slowly, Neville nodded. There was no point denying it. Malfoy still smirked. But Neville had to admit that he had lost a lot of his former nastiness. Old Malfoy would already have insulted him ten times by now.

"I do know him, we went to school together. May I ask you, Mr Malfoy, why you want to speak to me? It�s about your case, I suppose."

"No, it�s about your granny�s lovely hat. Of course it�s about my case. I�m innocent! I have proof!"

"Tell this the court." Neville was ready to wave him off. Malfoy had always been a nasty bugger and bully in school, he had feared him almost as much as Professor Snape, and he simply didn�t want to have to do anything with him. Despite that, he didn�t believe him a bit. When Voldemort had been defeated, most death eaters had died in the final battle or had killed themselves once it was clear they had lost. The rest were now rotting in Azkaban. Draco Malfoy had somehow escaped, but how he didn�t know. The only thing he knew was, that Lucius Malfoy had died in the battle and Narcissa Malfoy had burned down Malfoy Manor and poisoned herself. The rest of the Malfoy estate and fortune had been confiscated by the ministry and My way was poorer than a Weasley by the time it was done.

" I have to tell you! In private!" Malfoy tried to get closer to him, but the guards held him back. He glared.

"Why me?" Neville asked, wondering what tan can could possibly hope to achieve by this. "And why in private?"

"Just listen to me. I can�t tell this in front of people who might not be confidential."

"And I am �confidential�? Sorry, but last time I checked we hated each other guts!"

"You do have relations with the Order of the Phoenix, do you?" Malfoy said, with a condescending sneer on his lips. Neville�s eyes widened.

Within seconds he had shooed the guards out of the room. He didn�t fear Malfoy, he was unarmed and cuffed and there were a lot of wards on his office. He stared at him, still in suspicion.

"You claim to be innocent and now this Order business! Explain yourself." Malfoy sprawled in one of the fine leather chairs in front of his desk.

"I�m innocent. They want a life-sentence in Azkabor mor me and I�m innocent," he said theatrically. Neville raised a brow.

"So you didn�t deal with dark magic substances?" Draco looked around the office, noticing the noble furniture and the large shelves and desk.

"Nice office. Seems you made quite the big hit here at the ministry."

"Stop distracting!" Neville was getting furious. Draco�s grey eyes fixed on him, a worn-out look in them. Neville noticed how gaunt he looked and his dark the rings under his eyes were. He hadn�t seen him since school, but obviously his life seemed to have taken a turn for the worse. Neville couldn�t help but feel a grim satisfaction.

"Okay... well... I did deal with that stuff... but it was just pixie weed! A some few... other substances," he admitted with a rolling of his eyes. Neville looked aghast.
"You deal with drugs?" Again, the sneer appeared.

"Well, we all do have to make a living. But I�m not a death-eater! I swear! I never even got to see the dark Lord." The young man was almost pleading, which didn�t suit him well. But Neville felt more of that satisfaction creep up his spine. Here he was, Draco Malfoy, the pain of his childhood, begging for mercy...

"Do you have evidence?" he asked calmly. Draco raised his tightly cuffed hands.

"I don�t even have the dark mark." Neville got up from his chair and went around the big oak desk to look at them. With a brusque motion he jerked back the sleeves of the black shirt. Indeed, the two pale and thin underarms were devoid of any sigh of the dark mark. But instead there were some nasty bruises and quite a few little .. well.. Neville couldn�t find another word but track marks. Malfoy was obviously not only dealing drugs. He felt disgusted.

"And that�s all? What do you expect of me, Amnesty? A pardon?" he asked. Malfoy looked up at him, from where he sat.

"Yes," he said bluntly. Neville laughed. Hard. For the first time in a really long time hs ses seriously amused. He wandered back to his own chair and let himself slump down on it, reaching for the bell to get his secretary.

"You must be crazy, Malfoy. Did you really expect me to do that? I don�t even like you."

"But they�ll put me into Azkaban! And I�m not even a death eater," he whined, resembling very much the little boy he had been. The satisfaction Neville felt was beginning to mix with a strange feeling of power and superiority. Malfoy was at his hands and he now showed his true, pathetic self. He studied his once so pretty, now desperate and exhausted face, his hair, which had grown out without a proper cut and which needed a wash. His cuffed hands still were fine-boned and aristocratic, but they now seemed used to manual work. A small smile stole on to Neville�s face.

"Well, I you�d show some gratitude... but I guess there�s nothing you�ve got that I�d want," Neville explained slowly, trying to sound uninterested. He didn�t want anything from Draco, but he wanted to see how far he could get him. Draco�s eyes started to gleam at those words. He leaned forward, looking like the cat who has just spotted the canary.

"I�m sure we could get some... deal. I�d do anything if you�d manage to keep me out of Azkaban," he said with a conspiratorial voice. Neville cracked a frown.

"And what kind of thing would that be?" he asked, quite seriously innocent. He had never taken bribes from anyone. Malfoy looked at him as if he had just fallen from the moon and turned into a green wacky thing. A glint of his old mockery showed in his tired grey eyes. �You suggested this! Don�t you have any ideas?� his look said.

"I�d give you all I have.. um, that�d be two kilo of pixie weed, an enchanted flying muggle car... and about 20 fucking sickles... or I could run around naked, crying �Neville Longbottom is a God!� for twenty minutes. Hell, I could give you a blowjob if it�d make you happy!" He slouched back in his seat and stared at him. Neville stared back. A smug grin began to appear in Malfoys face.

"Oh... that�d make you happy, huh? I was right..."

"The hell you were!" Neville exclaimed indignantly, forgetting himself and involuntarily adopting Draco�s profanity.

"Oh, no need to deny this! I saw that look in your face!" Malfoy gloated loudly.

"You�d like that, me sucking your cock, huh? Well, there we are. I give you the sodden blowjob, you give me my pardon. Deal!" He jumped from his seat, holding up his still cuffed hands. Neville stared at him, his face blank.

"You�d do that? You�d whore out yourself?" he asked. To a man, he added in his mind. To a man. To me. Then his brain began to catch up. How had Malfoy guessed that he was at least fascinated by the idea? He wasn�t openly gay, there wasn�t any gossip about him that Malfoy could have picked up. He had had quite some sexual experience with women since he had started his career, they liked him a lot, at least some. But he had had a kind of infatuation with Harry in his last years... though of course Harry had never known that. He had been by far to busy defeating Voldemort to notice that.

Maybe Malfoy was gay? He seemed to have changed so thoroughly that everything was possible. He dealt with drugs. He drove an enchanted muggle car, which sounded like some Weasley thing!

Draco grimaced at the expression.

"I wouldn�t put it like that." He still held out his hands. Neville looked at them and back at the pale face of his former enemy.

"And you really think...that is worth a pardon for a possible death eater? I mean... sorry, but isn�t that quite arrogant?" The arrested man snorted quietly.

"Of course it is. I�m still me. And besides I have been told I�m quite good at it." So he was gay. Or at least claimed to be. Neville imagined it. Draco Malfoy, giving head to him in his very office. The thought was absurd, excitingly absurd. But was it worth granting him a pardon? his conscience asked.

"Okay." He took the hand into his, feeling how cool it was and seeing honest surprise in Malfoys face. "Deal. Under one condition: you will report monthly here at the ministry and you�ll stop dealing that stuff." Grey eyes shot him a dark look. But Malfoy shook his hand. He instantly became quite business-like. He came around the desk, obviously wanting to begin right where they were. Neville raised a hand to stop him. He tapped the little bell on his desk with the tip of his wand.

"Annabelle, I�ll be in my private rooms. Tell the security guards that Mr Malfoy and I have import matters to discuss. I don�t want to be disturbed."

"Yes Sir," came the answer after a stunned silence.

Neville got up, leading his �guest� to another huge wooden doorway and into a second office. This one was more private and less official and important looking, it had old-fashioned stuffed chairs instead of modern leather seats and it was a little darker because of long, thick navy blue curtains. The desk looked polished and unused. Neville took of his robe, under which he wore a plain muggle style polo shirt and cotton pants. He carefully draped it over the back of the chair he sat down on and then looked at Draco a last time. He knew, if he wanted to back out of this, it was now of never. Draco stood there, under his gaze, trying to maintain a nonchalant stance and not totally failing. He looked arrogant and weak, beautiful and jaded, self-confident and helpless all at once. It was a charming combination, Neville found. He was once more imagining how they would be doing this, and he realised again what he was about to do and with whom. It was so unreal that it wasn�t even embarrassing.

"Well then," he said, surprised and pleased at the same time by the firmness of his voice. "Show me if you�re worth it." Draco nodded. A hard, determined edge had once again appeared about his jaw. He came closer and almost effortlessly went to his knees in front of him. Neville relaxed into his seat, looking down at the blonde head and trying to enjoy the sensation of utter control and doing somethinrbidrbidden and corrupt. He noticed they hadn�t bothered to unchain Malfoy when the cuffed hands opened his fly with much agility, for the first time brushing the flesh of his abdomen. He felt conscious of him self, he felt exposed, and it felt good. It was some kind of final triumph. Draco Malfoy was touching him intimately and he felt self-confident about it. He was in control. He had finally left behind the weak, shy body he had been.

Draco wasn�t looking at him. He wrapped his fingers carefully around the half aroused member and began stroking it lightly. There was no gentleness in the softness of his touch, no feeling at all. But it still got a response of Neville�s body, he felt himself harden with a rush of lust and desire to overtake, to act control about someone, about this man kneeling in front of him. He could feel the cool fingertips along his shaft and the even colder metal of the cuffs. A stray silver hair tickled his left hipbone.
It wasn�t half as bad as Draco had feared. Longbottom was at least a pureblood wizard and no filthy muggleborn. He wasn�t even ugly or something. He was attractive in a very mainstream way, slim body, slightly tanned skin, short dark hair, watery blue eyes. If he was honest, the man was in better shape than he himself. He was run down and he knew it. He would just get over with this. He would just forget that this was fucking Longbottom in front of whom he was kneeling, whose cock he was kissing. Worse had happened to him in the last years. More humiliating things even. He had also lost a lot of his childish arrogance and ignorance and stubbornness. The haughty brat he was still pulling off was only a role he played. It had suited him so well.
A wet tongue was licking his flesh, lips were grazing the tip of his erection. Their warm wetness was so very alive and human, Neville suddenly felt to its full extent, what he was doing. He was using another person, he remembered, he was enjoying sex that by its very nature of being a bribe was illegal. The intimacies were but prostitution. But it was in a way not only Malfoy selling himself, but also he, Neville, trading his honour as a ministry official for a moment of cheap lust. He shivered all over his body at the thoughts and suddenly gripped Mal sho shoulder. The man looked up at him, the colourless eyes boring into his with painful intensity despite the red-rimmed lids and the gaunt cheeks of his face. They were not accusing, not insulting for once. And Neville was relived to see that they were also not filled with shame or pain or disgust. The heavy lids still spoke of weariness and age before the time, but now there was some glint in them, some curiosity, some hint at being thrilled by this as well � or was he imagining it? He probably was, but it eased him. Malfoys lips were closing around the hardened shaft, and he slowly slid down, averting his gaze, starting to suck.
Neville�s breath quickened. His wan wandered along the bony shoulder under the black of the shirt Malfoy wore, diving under the strands of blonde hair, feeling for the skin of his neck. He could feel the tendons play under his fingertips while Draco moved his head to suck and lick, he could slowly press him further down, could feel the resistance break away under his hand. The cuffed hands still wrapped around the base of his cock, Malfoy let him slide deeper into his mouth.
This was probably the most thrilling sex he had ever had. It was that very moment when he wrapped his fist around that silky tangle of hair and pulled so that Draco had to look up at him with those ice cold eyes while sucking at his cock, that he knew he was gay. There was no such thing as fucking a man and he knew it. His erection began to ache and he moaned, his hips arching upwards and thrusting into the wet heat of the man�s mouth. Draco was not doing anything anymore, he simply let Neville fuck him, leaning back into the grip of his hand, trying not to gag at the hard member pushing into his throat.
This was in a way the roughest sex he�d ever had, at least the roughest Draco could still remember and there were some times in which he had been to drugged or drunk to recall any details. He had the impression that Longbottom had never given head before, at least he was not at all careful about letting him breathe. He had to fight his gagging reflexes very hard while his mouth was ravished so violently. Of course it was possible, he thought as he hand in his hair tugged painfully so he had to arch his neck very uncomfortably, that Longbottom simply didn�t care if he could breathe or not. He was just a little criminal, a man who had begged to be spared a life sentence in Azkaban. It made him feel even more detached from eveing ing to think of himself this way. He tried to support his body with his cuffed hands and closed his eyes.
Sweat pooled on the dark-haired man�s forehead and upper lip as he put all his energy into the bucking of his hips, and he nearly held his breath as he felt the tension rise in his thighs. He had to get up, to his feet, to get more freedom to move his hips, and they awkwardly tumbled to the side when he did so, hitting the desk with a small thump. Neville�s free hand skidded over the wooden surface in a breathless attempt to support them and he started rocking his hips, thrusting freely now into the hot mouth.
Draco was half trapped between Neville�s legs and the hard edge of the desk, he was unable to use his tightly bound hands anymore to keep himself steady. He hung slackly in the firm grip Neville still had on him. Spit ran down his chin as the swollen member plunged into his mouth, but his throat felt dry and sore. He wasn�t able to breathe properly through his nose and a heady sensn wan was beginning to take over his thoughts as he listened to Neville groan and pant.
With a final thrust and a small yell from Neville, the hot semen shot into his throat, finally making him choke and gag. Neville collapsed and for a moment remained bent over him in a gasping heap, then he pulled back and slumped into his chair.

Neville was sure that this had been the best orgasm he�d ever had and in the afterglow of it he didn�t even feel guilty for not having shared the pleasure. Draco looked pale and sweaty as he leaned against the desk, barely able to keep himself from slipping to the ground. His face was looking slightly sick, as he brushed spit and semen away from his chin with the backs of his chained hands. Neville took a handkerchief from the pocket of his shirt and cleaned himself, then he dressed properly again. Draco still hadn�t moved and he looked absent. Neville cleared his throat.

"You alright?"

Draco tried to nod, but his head lolled forward and he started to cough weakly. Shivers went through his frail body. Neville bit his lip and the warm sensations began to drain from his blood.

"It�s just... the.. drugs," the young man croaked with a shaky voice. "Haven�t had any... in a while..". Neville sighed with relief, only too ready to believe this. He retrieved a quill from his desk and began to write down on a parchment. Draco, who had stopped coughed but still was shaking and sitting on the ground next to his chair, watched him.

"You�re really giving me a pardon," he observed with slight amazement. "You�re giving me a pardon for a stupid blow job. You could just kick my ass and forget me, now that we�re over with it.. you�d made a miserable death eater." Neville looked at him sharply over his quill.

"And you knew that, owisewise you wouldn�t have agreed. Now shut up. With this you�ll be a free man. I�m giving the authorities my word that you�re trustworthy and not a follower of He who must not be named. Now we understood each other, that you�ll report to the ministry on a monthly base. And if you�ll ever come into conflict with the law again, I�ll not do so much as look at you." Malfoy sneered, but broke into a new coughing fit.

Neville signed and sealed the parchment, and Malfoy, who seemed to have become a bit less pale by now, got to his feet and they went back into the main office. Malfoy looked at him.

"You can go now," Neville said awkwardly. The lanky man nodded curtly and turned towards the door, but then he stopped and turned back again. A mischievous grin had appeared on Draco�s pointed face and he flicked back his tousled long hair with a flippant move of his head.

"I�ll be needing some money � you wouldn�t mind borrowing me some, would you, Longbottom? For a little shag, maybe?"

Neville was irritated for a second at the boldness the man showed, but then a smile crept on his lips.
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Unforgivables