Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Droit de seigneur	By : knj4k4 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 35840 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 12
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the character, the fandom, or the universe. I am making no money fromt his fanfiction.

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Neville.

Harry stormed through the first year boys dorm waking Neville from his nap. The Longbottom heir wiped the drool from his face and the book he’d fallen asleep on. The commotion to his left recaptured his still hazy attention.

“Harry? Are you okay?”

Harry froze and turned slowly to face Neville, his expression was surprised but beneath that was something darker, something enraged. It scared Neville and he whimpered before he could help himself. Such an expression didn’t belong on any 11 year old face, and especially not the face of the Boy-Who-Lived. But then it was gone and Harry smiled weakly.

Neville returned it and decided what he’d seen was a play of the light and nothing more.

“Its just not like I thought it would be, you know?”

Neville shook his head.

“You’re my friend right Neville?” Harry moved closer, his eyes intent and serious. Neville gulped and nodded.

“Really? Truly? Can I trust you Neville?”

Neville nodded again and leaned forward eagerly. Harry smiled softly and walked towards him so he could sit on Neville’s bed. Neville scattered the clutter on his bed to make room and Harry giggled and helped him.

There was a moment where they simply smiled at each other and Neville became aware that this was a moment with potential for embarrassment. With all his cousins in a moment such as this, they would push him away and laugh at him, calling him 'fag' and 'poof'. Neville blushed but Harry only lifted a hand to gently smooth it away.

“Can I trust you Neville?” Harry asked again, his voice softening as he leaned closer, “Will you always remain mine, my loyal friend. Will you promise to remain true to me, Neville?” Harry’s voice was so soft, his lips moving gently against Neville’s and Neville could only breath, “Yes.”

Deep within him something shifted, something clicked, something burned.

Neville ignored it.

“What happened, Harry?”

“Hermione, She’s always telling me what to do. I hate that!” Harry hissed, his hand traveling up to Neville’s hair and tightening painfully. "'You have to do your homework Harry. You don't have time for quidditch Harry. Harry, be nicer to Malfoy, Harry.' she makes me sick." Neville inhaled sharply at the pain in his scalp but that something inside him only burned hotter.

“and Ron.” Harry hissed again, tilting Neville’s head up at a sharp angle with the fingers clenched in his hair, “He’s no better. He refuses to let me talk to anyone else, always demanding my time and attention. I can’t make any other friends.” Harry was nearly shaking in his rage.

“You have me Harry.” Neville gasped past the tension in his neck.

It was only then- as the rolling magical pressure disappeared- that Neville knew it had been pushing down around him. His breathing eased and Harry released his hair, gently soothing it back into place. “yes, yes I do, don’t I.”

Harry inhaled deeply on Neville’s cheek and then kissed him. Lips met gently but the slice of power none the less went straight down Neville’s spine. The burn inside him flared into a flame and engulfed him entirely. The world around him faded until there was only Harry, until the boy in front of him was crystal clear in a hazy world. Neville's promises were made without to much thought but Neville knew he would follow this boy to the depths of hell should Harry ask it.

“Yes Harry.” Neville breathed.

Harry snuggled into Neville’s neck and Neville quickly wrapped his arms around the smaller boy. He could feel Harry’s ribs beneath his hands and privately swore to get Harry the nutrient potions he would need to get healthy again. He had already realized Harry hadn’t been well treated by his Aunt and Uncle.

Harry hummed in comfort. " I've been writing Tonks."

"The girl you met in Diagon?" Neville clarified without judgement.

"Yes. She's a metamorph and training to be an Auror. She's been telling me about the ministry and the departments. They expect her to sleep her way to the top. I told her that if she let them, she'd always be stuck doing it but also, she'd have something on them, blackmail. Is that bad?"

Neville shook his head. He really didn't have a clue what Harry was talking about but Harry couldn't ever be bad. "No, it's good advice."

“Do you think we would have been friends, grown up together? If there was no Voldemort, I mean." Harry changed the subject.

Neville didn't feel the need to shiver at Voldemort's name. Holding Harry in his arms had the fire in his blood chasing away any fear.

"I hope so Harry."

"Do you remember your parents?" Harry asked casually.

"No. They were cursed insane and are at St. Mungo's. I only know them that way." It almost shocked Neville how easy it was to confess his most precious secret but this was Harry. There was no force on this earth that could convince him trusting Harry was a mistake.

Harry leaned up to look him right in the eye. "Who did it?"

"The Lestranges. They're in Azkaban prison."

"Still alive?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

Harry nodded and settled back into Neville's neck. "I will kill them for you, one day."

Neville believed him and it soothed the dark place inside him where vengeance lived. If anyone could do it, Harry Potter could.

"Neville, would it scare you if I told you I don’t like Dumbledore very much?” Harry asked after a long moment.

Neville just shook his head. “Would you tell me why?”

Harry sighed and cuddled closer to Neville’s bulk. “He left me on a doorstop at night for my muggle Aunt to find in the morning. It was November. I could have died. Hagrid told me. They don't want me. They hate me. Maybe I could have lived with you.” He whispered.

Neville held him closer and Harry’s breath slowed as sleep neared. “No Harry, it doesn't scare me. I don’t like him much either, now.” In a moment of clarity Neville continued, “I wouldn't have like him even had you a bad explanation. Whatever you will Harry.”

Harry sighed, “Call me” he yawned, “something else, beloved.”

“My lord.” Neville whispered, blushing at what Harry had called him and his own presumption. He’d never been loved before. For that, he would go beyond hell.

He would return to ancient traditions and accept Harry as his Liege, his master.

"And, If I'm not as light as they want me to be?" Harry murmured.

"Your will is mine my Lord." Neville reassured, taking pleasure in the smile he felt against his neck.

He gulped slightly wondering what his parents would think of this. But then he didn't care. Harry was everything now.

"As long as you're mine beloved, I'll take care of you." Then Harry fell asleep and Neville kept watch. He would provide his lord with the comfort of a true servant and a pair of warm arms. Surely his parents couldn't fault that.
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Droit de seigneur