Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Awakening To the Dream	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 45316 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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-CH1
- 2-CH2
- 3-CH3
- 4-CH4
- 5-CH5
- 6-CH6
- 7-CH7
- 8-Ch8
- 9-Ch9
- 10-Ch10
- 11-CH11
- 12-CH12
- 13-CH13
- 14-CH14
- 15-CH15
- 16-CH16
- 17-CH17
- 18-CH18
- 19-Ch19
- 20-CH20
- 21-CH21
- 22-Ch22
- 23-CH23
- 24-CH24
- 25-CH25
- 26-CH26
- 27-CH27
- 28-CH28
- 29-CH29
- 30-CH30
- 31-CH31
- 32-CH32
- 33-CH33
- 34-CH34
- 35-CH35
- 36-CH36
- 37-CH37
- 38-CH38
- 39-CH39
- 40-CH40
- 41-Ch41
- 42-Ch42
- 43-Ch43
- 44-Ch44
- 45-Ch45
- 46-Ch46
- 47-Ch47
- 48-Ch48
- 49-Ch49
- 50-Ch50 *End Part 1*
- 51-Ch51
- 52-Ch52
- 53-Ch53
- 54-Ch54
- 55-Ch55
- 56-CH56
- 57-CH57
- 58-CH58
- 59-CH59
- 60-CH60
- 61-CH61
- 62-CH62
- 63-CH63
- 64-CH64
- 65-CH65
- 66-CH66
- 67-CH67 *New 6/6/2015*
- 68-CH68
- 69-CH69
- 65
- 66
- 67
CH66
White Towers was changed from when Neville had last been there for the Heir’s welcoming dinner. There was a wild energy in the air born of fear and excitement. The hallways sparkled with a power that had long left the castle. White Towers had woken up after its long sleep, and although it brought to light new aches and pains, vibrant life was bursting forth and supporting the once dreary occupants with joy. Statues and portraits smiled and greeted his passing, doors opened easily—even the throw rugs had a bounce in them that carried walkers along. Neville’s melancholy was slowly fading with each step he took in the renewed fortress.
“I’d be happy to introduce you, but I’m afraid it would have a poor effect,” Lesley said, stopping in front of the room the Peri Lul were settled in, and forcing Neville to remember why he had returned to White Towers that night.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m the head of my family and my Grandmum has made sure I act it. It’s all the same after a while.” Neville glumly looked at the closed door.
“Remember, you’re representing White Towers tonight. This isn’t about the Elves, Incubi, or the Heir, just the human’s of the Council of Wizards. You need to leave any prejudice from those other roots behind before stepping in there.”
“I know.” Trying to keep his annoyance in check, Neville fiddle with his robes, making sure he was presentable. He had worn the white ones at Clive’s suggestion. Supposedly the Peri Lul honored the natural energy that was youth. For once his lack of height was going to come in handy.
“Here…” Lesley pulled a flower from a nearby vase, and with a wave of his hand, it multiplied and expanded into a chain of woven blossoms. “Don’t be too snooty; the innocent kid angle is our best bet for now. They’re all so old in there they won’t be able to tell the difference anyways.”
Neville sighed as the crown of flowers was placed on his head. Why did every Fae event result with him looking like a fool? “Well, I am a newborn,” he reminded, even if he was still technically sixteen.
“Yes, but newborns aren’t supposed to be jaded. Humans live in a very different world than the Peri Lul. Are you ready?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Good lad. I have some things to get to, but I’ll be waiting for you in that room over there once the meeting is over. If you get into any trouble, just give Nips a call.” Lesley gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and began walking down the hall. Neville waited until the man was out of sight before knocking briskly on the door. He opened it before anyone had a chance to answer.
A dozen forms greeted his eyes, all dressed in soothing shades of green and blue, all with glowing flushed faces and sparkling brown eyes. Bright white teeth flashed as they smiled and rose together as one. Magic surrounded the beings like air, leaving an aura of soft hazy light. Although one of the oldest races on the planet, none bent with pain or the decay of age. They were as vibrant as life itself as they embraced the ancient ways of magic.
A woman looking no older than thirty stepped forward, smiling welcomingly. “What a beautiful child. Have you come to dance for us while we wait, newborn?” More stepped forward, fawning over Neville as if he were a toddler, petting his smooth hair and tugging playfully at his robes. Neville internally thanked whatever god listening that no one had tried to pinch his cheek; there was only so much he could handle.
Pulling away, he fixed them with the stern, commanding look Clive had insisted he practice. “Peri Lul, I am Neville of the Regal Sighe. I have been chosen to speak with you on behalf of the Council of Wizards.”
The group gave a surprised murmur, exchanging glances and telepathic communications while Neville waited. Finally another woman spoke, shorter and paler than the others. Her tightly bound silver hair braided intricately with golden ribbons marked her as a leader. “Why hasn’t Lesley come?”
“Mr. Griffith felt that you would prefer someone that wasn’t… well, him,” Neville explained honestly. “I have been giving the authority to speak with you on his and the Council’s behalf. Any and all concerns you express to me will reach their ears. You are not being placated, only given the opportunity to speak your mind without the past clouding these discussions.”
“That’s very kind of you, Neville, but I’m afraid we cannot just air such problems to a simple wizard. Our traditions call…”
“For a Fae Wizard, at the least,” Neville finished for her. “I can transform if you wish. I only refrained because it’s late, and I find it difficult to sleep after changing into my Soul Form.”
“Ah, you are that Neville of the Regal Sighe.” The silver-haired woman reached her hand out and took Neville’s into her own. “I am Eliza, Lasting Spring. I am what your Chancellor was for your Council, except I share the duty with two colleagues, Failen and Kurt who are at home. These good people are some of the leading intellectuals of the Peri Lul. Let us settle and share our concerns.”
Neville wasn’t quite sure what he had expected. The Peri Lul were elves like himself, but lacked one of the two Fae that sired his line. His own clan had pretty much gone human; they celebrated the greater holydays, but without a Royal to represent them in the High Tieren, the Regal Sighe, and their close cousins, the Bluen Mount, and Le Lea Tame Elf Clans had little access to the old magic like before. He understood now why the clan elders were so desperate to distinguish themselves from the wizarding world; looking at the Peri Lul revealed just how far his clan had fallen.
“You have Scutum’s eyes.”
Neville blinked. “Pardon?”
“You hide your thoughts. Yourself, even,” Eliza explained, her expression thoughtful.
“Oh…” Neville shrugged. “It’s nothing worth sharing.”
“Perhaps not these individual thoughts. It’s more a remark on your inability to open yourself to the Earth’s energies. It is what defines the slow fall of your Clan.”
Neville’s hands ceased their anxious tracing of the side of the table. Closed or not, it seemed Eliza had no problem reading him. “That could be correct, but the Peri Lul have never bothered themselves with human affairs before. Being open to the Earth means dealing with those that dwell on it. My Clan’s intentions were of the purest. They just…”
“Lost their way.”
“Yeah…” Lost into bitterness, anger, pain; his Clan had forgotten the old ways, had forgotten the way back. As with their kind, no one would light the way back for them but wait patiently for the wayward souls to find their way home on their own. It was no surprise that the lost stayed lost.
“You were concerned about the loss of fedden so late in the season,” Neville reminded, trying to direct the conversation back.
“How do you feel about humans, Neville?”
“Huh?” Inwardly he was cursing himself for so easily losing control of the conversation again.
“There has been a rise in muggleborns the last decade, most ending up in attendance at Hogwarts. How do you find them?”
“I don’t see how this is relevant.”
“Humor me, newborn. I’m long in years, and find explaining myself tedious.”
Having seen that stubborn look before on his Grandmother’s face, Neville sighed and sat back in his chair. “I find them to be just as any other group of students. They have the same want to learn, the same need to socialize, and the same fear of being gobbled up by Voldemort. The only difference is that while purebloods come to school with the background of thousands of years of tradition, muggleborns have no preconceptions of what the wizarding world has to hold. They are surprised by our failings as well as our triumphs, yet will embrace them both quickly after. Even so, there are still purebloods that will not accept them in our world.”
“And you?”
“I’m indifferent. Until the last month I thought the wizarding world was on its way out. Seeing it in the light of strengthening us, muggleborns bring modernism and a desperately needed connection to the rest of the world. They’re not afraid to question every aspect of our lives. But the purebloods are not wrong in fearing the dilution of the Fae lines and our true power. We are risking the tenuous hold we have with the Fae, and as such, our place in the balance of life. Humans, as many have agreed before, are not in balance.”
“No, they are not. Their corruption and ultimate destruction of the world has proven that.”
“Right. The Ministry fears that muggleborns are the end result of the dying out of the purebloods. Our replacements. In reality the muggleborn phenomenon wouldn’t ‘replace’ us because we wizards have moved out of sync with the world along with the humans. I think the Earth is finding a solution to the human problem by changing them. Muggleborns are the natural wizards gifted by the Earth… At least, that’s what my instincts say. Unlike the other Fae, it is far more difficult to get a clear audience with a planet.” Neville looked on disinterestedly. “Was there anything else, or can we return to business?”
Eliza’s eyes reflected amusement. “I wonder… are you inclined to rule?” At Neville’s silence, she shifted and continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Our monthly tally has shown that the fedden have decreased exponentially along with a great number of our essential crops. We are in need of help; although we Peri Lul will be able to survive, the tribes that we share the lands with are less hardy, and we predict will suffer terrible loss without some sort of assistance.”
“So you’re representing them?” At Eliza’s nod, he continued, “Do you have a census of the groups in need? Also, the tally of your stores and crops, and a good idea of what it took in past years to feed the whole group. The ratio of carnivores and vegetarians; I would assume the lists would reflect what you’re in need of.”
“My, you’re so serious. Lesley did well in choosing you. You did forget to ask about the source of our problems.”
“One thing at a time. We’ll need to see if you’re able to plant a late crop this winter with magical assistance. Meat will be a completely different issue, along with special provisions. The Council is stocked for blood, and dreams, and I hear that recently the Ministry has recruited a Taiben to feed the Howlds’ particular hunger. Fedden supply nourishment that can be replicated with beef and a vitamin supplement… but of course, that won’t help the environmental chaos caused by the fedden decrease…”
Neville ceased when a light applause rose from those at the table, the Peri Lul smiling at him endearingly.
“Well done, well done. You didn’t even have to charm up your information. Such a remarkable young man.”
“You will surely make a splash at the High Tieren this Winter Solstice. I presume to see you there. We Peri Lul always attend, with great enjoyment.”
Neville made sure to keep his face blank. He felt half in a dream where an audience critiqued every serious action he took until he was nothing more than a trick pony.
“You will be attending the Winter Solstice, correct?” Eliza prodded. Neville could swear she knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Barring any unfortunate event. I haven’t missed one yet.” Neville answered tightly, hoping this would be the first time he did. “Now about the cause of the fedden’s decrease.”
Eliza’s voice darkened in answer. “The source has been identified, and impossible to correct at this time.”
“And that would be…?”
“A handful of months ago a great disturbance in the magic by the gate was wrought. It was concluded that the incident with the Heir was to blame. We are still looking for signs of any long term damage worldwide from that incident.”
“You mean…” Neville had to stop and reassess. “Has it ever been documented that injury to the Heir could translate to that of the planet?”
Eliza exchanged a glance with the group. “Not in the way you’re thinking. What caused this was more a reaction to energy given off by the Soul of the Ancient Night, not the human host’s circumstances.”
“But… what does that mean?” Neville stressed.
“It means we have little we can do. There are only three other beings that can correct and combat effects of Nox Ămor, and there would have to be a greater intrigue than the loss of life on the planet to sway them to action.”
There was no gleam in Eliza’s expression anymore. She was the stern, commanding leader of a race of ancient beings on a crucial assignment. “We must disregard the things that cannot be changed, Neville, and work towards the survival of the life around the gate. If not, the protection of the gate will lose power and greater horrors than we can imagine could engulf this planet. Although support is generous, and likely needed, we have come here for other reasons. We are here on behalf of the Heralds of the Fae to ask the Council for a reconnection of communication of our groups, and to help in contacting the two fallen children.”
Neville started, all color draining from his face. They were representing the Heralds? And they wanted to contact… “But they… they’re insane…”
Eliza nodded. “Yes. We have little options right now.”
Neville just shook his head slowly, sitting back in his seat and relaxing his clutching hands. The risks involved in approaching Solus Ta and Cosmo Re… surely the Heralds of the Fae knew them better than he did. It could only mean that the need was just as great. “… I find it difficult to believe they would help.”
“I have had dealings with Cosmo Re before, long ago,” Eliza informed. “And a far less pleasant incident with Solus Ta. There are no assurances, of course, but we have a fair idea of what type of leverage may work. We can only try.”
Neville decided it was time to talk to Lesley, and immediately. “I will present your intentions to the Council tonight. They are willing to give you shelter for as long as you need for these negotiations. For now I will recommend immediate relief for the tribes in dire need from the Gate incident. Are there any other concerns you would like addressed this evening?”
“I think we’ve covered the greatest need for now,” Eliza said, the group standing as Neville stood. “On a more personal note, Neville, I truly do hope we will see you during the Winter Solstice. The High Tieren is calling out to the stray Clans and Tribes in the hopes of regaining some unity during these trying times. Your view of muggles and their integration into our community would be most helpful.”
Neville nodded distractedly. If the High Tieren was requesting his presence he had little choice in the matter. “Did you have an idea of when you would be making contact?”
“Before the spring, if possible. We need to complete our observations before presenting our case. The more time that passes, the more damage that can be wrought. We cannot tarry.”
“Of course. If you wait a moment someone will be in to show you to your quarters.” Neville ducked out of the room, taking a deep breath once safe within the hallway. Absentmindedly he pulled the crown of flowers from his hair and left it on a nearby table. He took his time walking to the room Lesley was waiting in, instead trying to stop the racing of his heart.
Solus Ta, and Cosmo Re… it was pure madness to seek their help. They despised the Earth, and any duty they had been saddled with from their stronger half brother. Forcing them to do their duty of protecting the Gate the Heralds watched would only lead to bloodshed. Nox Ămor was the only one with the strength of will, and Harry was hardly of enough power yet to take on that task. Voldemort was an easier foe than the Children of Light any day.
*******
Lesley had taken Neville’s account of the Peri Lul with only a small amount of cursing and muttering. While the boy sat to regain his composure, Lesley began calling owls. He needed to reach his family, the saner versions, and get any news of his ancestors’ whereabouts and current mental status. He then called for Nips, sending him out to gather up his fellow Chancellors so they could discuss the horrible turn of events.
Neville was happy to escape the meeting that was sure to drag on far into tomorrow, and allowed Nips to escort him to the arrival chamber and waiting floo. His mind was far from easy though, and he went straight to the Hospital Ward to seek out Draco.
Stepping into the section Draco and Harry had taken up residence, Neville found Harry alone, Draco’s bed curtains open and bed empty. Before he could worry about what could have moved the boy from Harry’s side, he felt something in his head shift, Clive’s presence making itself known. The sensation was disconcerting and Neville swayed briefly on his feet, fighting a wave of vertigo. The connection didn’t fade like before, both Incubi’s presence a little more sound in Neville’s head, although far from strong.
We’re waiting for you.
Neville sent back an affirmative sign, hastily turning and walking through the waiting room towards Clive and Blaise’s set of rooms. The simple communication had sent energy sparking through him from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes. He stumbled twice, finally managing to get the door open as he burst into the room flushed and feeling a bit manic.
Clive was waiting for him, standing, leaning on the edge of the bed to keep from falling. Draco, who had been talking with the man, turned and stared from one to the other. “Maybe I should go…”
“No, I uh, I need to talk to you.” Neville stepped into the room hesitantly. “And you, Clive. I heard a lot tonight from the Peri Lul that I think we all should be aware of.” He tried to speak as calm as possible, but the small link to the Incubi was sending his head spinning.
“How is he?” Blaise, asleep on the bed Clive had been sitting on, didn’t look exactly well, but Neville imagined he might have gained more color than when he had left for White Towers that evening.
“He’s better. I came in to watch over him after Mr. Griffith told me what had happened. You did a good job, Neville,” Draco said, his voice full of thanks.
Neville nodded, walking closer until he was next to Draco’s chair. “Dean is really the hero in it all.” Across Clive watched him, still leaning on the bed as if not knowing whether to sit, or to come forward. He had yet to talk, and the glow in the man’s eyes told Neville that if he did he would not be able to control his voice. Neville wanted to tell him to relax and sit down. The thin tension in the air warned him otherwise, and instead he turned to Draco.
“You’re a Candidate, so you must know a lot more about the Heir than most of us, right?”
Draco tilted his head, already concerned where this was going. “I’m afraid I didn’t have the chance to study up on it once I actually knew it was true. I do know a bit from the old Black Candidate tome though.”
“The Heralds of the Fae sent the Peri Lul tonight. Something has happened to the land around their Gate. Things are dying, magic is erratic; they think it has to do with the attack on the Heir. Not Harry, but Nox Ămor. Do you have any idea what that means?”
Draco thought for a while, unconsciously flexing his weak fingers in exercise. There was something that Nox Ămor had told him during that brief time he was awake… “I think Nox Ămor isn’t like he used to be. Something has happened to him… something horrible. And, now that he is back, he might not have the same stability he once had.” In Draco’s mind he could clearly see the strange, shaking hands the powerful god had shown him. “…I had the impression it could mean bad things for the planet.”
Neville moved around Draco’s chair and sat on the empty bed heavily. Clive finally found the motivation to sit as well, his hand straying to Blaise’s among the blankets.
“Is there anything we can do?” Clive finally asked.
Neville looked up, finding the tension of before replaced with a sweeter sorrow calling to him from the Incubus. “The Heralds intend to ask the fallen Children of the Light for help. No one is sure if they will agree, but they seem to have a plan.”
“They should ask La Lune,” Draco said abruptly, ignoring the shocked looks sent his way. “He may be fucked up with anything concerning Nox Ămor, but he descended to this planet with the intent to stabilize it. It makes me wonder why he hasn’t taken care of the problem already.”
“Maybe because it is a side effect of the Soul of the Ancient Night,” Clive suggested.
“Maybe.”
In the growing silence Blaise stirred, his arms flailing out. Clive sat back to avoid getting hit and then carefully tucked the boy back in place.
“How is your pain?” Neville asked Draco. It seemed impossible that less than 24 hours ago Hogwarts had been ensnared in Draco’s spell.
“It’s better. I think my system is finally getting back to normal this last week because I’m healing much faster. I’m hoping to get away from the pain potions soon; they leave me so messed up. They haven’t helped my depression either.”
“Good. I heard the twins talking about having most of the potion to combat your allure ready by late tomorrow. Hopefully it will be effective enough so you can start taking classes soon.”
“Actually, I don’t believe Draco will be taking classes again,” Clive spoke up when Draco didn’t answer. “Not for academic reasons, anyways.”
“You’re joking,” Neville said incredulously. “It’s only a couple of months to catch up, not even that because class had to be suspended for a good three weeks for counseling and repairs. Half of this stuff you already know, anyways.”
Draco nodded his head in agreement. “The thing is Nevvy, I don’t know how wise it would be for me to stay at Hogwarts. I originally came here for information… and well, I’ll stay as long as Harry is here. But I’m not looking for classes on basic charms and Herbology and stuff. I need to learn how to fight, and I need to know how to do it without my hands. I need to know how to subdue, and guard, and kill and Hogwarts just isn't the place for that.”
Neville frowned, worry growing from the dark edge in Draco's tone. “Being Soul Vigil isn’t just about killing. It's about reaching out to the people and getting on their level.”
“All well and good if you live long enough first,” Draco said with a harsh laugh. “No one is going to listen to a Soul Vigil that can't save the people he's trying to reach. No, I've been thinking about this for a while now, and talking with Clive tonight has settled it. It's time I learned how to fight, and not just with a wand. I'll keep up appearances if I must while here, but I have no intention of bothering with something as trivial as schoolwork.”
The thought didn’t seem so strange to Neville once put in that light: what was schooling for someone who was soon to fight for his life? “I suppose it’s the better path for you seeing as you’re dealing with things way beyond the scope of higher education. But how? Where? I doubt Dumbledore is going to let you tear up the castle, and it's not like we have a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher anymore. The poor bastard flew out the door after taking one look at that Exault.”
Clive gave a small wave, sheepish a cute look on his attractive features. “I will be instructing Draco, with help from the Draven Fae, if they are so willing.”
Neville’s breath caught and he sat back. “Will you now?”
“I’m the most experienced here to do it. As much as Christien schooled the Enforcers, it was with Lesley and I that they learned how to fight in the wilds. I may be peace loving, but I have had to kill my fair share of wild beasts. I know how to be the aggressor and how to avoid conflict equally. The Fae are much like animals in that regard, their instincts deciding their actions.”
Neville listened raptly, realizing he really didn’t know much about the man Clive once was. Blaise had told him in passing at the Heir’s welcoming party that his uncle was a Councilor, an achievement of great power for one so young, and that he had a way with magical animals. Apparently Clive could reach beings on a level others couldn’t, making him ideal for communicating and understanding the creatures, and consequently, his peers. Neville did not remember any mention of him being a warrior.
“Are you… are you well enough?”
“In some ways. Draco is more limited than me at the moment, but once the time comes I will be healed enough. Are you concerned for me?” Clive asked lightly, the shifting of shadows contradicting his tone.
“I, uh, I suppose I am,” Neville whispered, trying and failing to look away when Clive stood and crossed the small distance between the beds. He didn’t flinch from the cool touch of fingers to his cheek, his eyes caught in the frosty ones before him.
“Maybe you would like me to teach you as well? I want you to be well protected.” Neville nodded mutely, unable to express his own growing want to protect the ones he had denied caring about for so long.
Clive held his hand out, stepping back as if he knew what was causing Neville’s anxiety. “Come sit with Blaise… please? I think he would be happy to know you are here. I… there is a lot I want to talk with you about.”
“Alright.” Neville got unsteadily to his feet, hesitating for a long moment before allowing Clive to take his hand. It was, for the most part, as a hand should feel. Except Neville had yet to have another’s hand cause such a fluttering within his stomach.
Not looking at the taller man, he settled himself at Blaise’s side, carefully rearranging the blankets so the boy would be comfortable. He was only half aware of Clive and Draco’s conversation, and was jolted when he heard Draco dismissing himself for the evening and Clive seeing him to the door.
Neville stared intently on Blaise’s sleeping features, doing his best to ignore the presence that had come up behind him and was watching him openly. “This nervousness… it seems uncharacteristic of you, Neville,” Clive whispered. He moved to sit next to the boy, the bed dipping under his weight.
“Maybe.” Neville breathed out unevenly. “Still, how am I to know how to act? This is very new for me. It… it scares me.”
“Oh.” Catching the tone of Clive’s voice, Neville grabbed his wrist and held him still. His eyes remained downcast. “You two do not scare me. I scare me. I did not mean it any other way.” He chanced a glance upward, not pulling away when the wrist he held wrapped around and Clive’s hand twined with his. “I am not myself around you.”
“I think…” Clive smiled weakly, his eyes darting away now that Neville had met his gaze. “I think none of us are ourselves, just yet. But in time, together the three of us will discover just who we are. …Would that be alright?”
“Yes,” Neville replied slowly, surprised to hear uncertainty in the other’s voice. “I’ll try, you know. I put up a bad fight, a cruel one, but I’m going to try now. Just—well, I had my reasons. They haven’t gone away. You’re still… and he’s still… Things will not be easy.”
Clive’s hand went limp, and darkness covered his voice. “Please, don’t regret…”
“I regret nothing!” Neville snapped, stopping himself from yelling in anger. “What a stupid… Idiot,” He muttered, holding tight to Clive.
“Am I too old?” Clive continued, his voice full of insecurity. “Am I… too strange?” At the words shadows rose with visions of how Clive saw himself, from the insecure human to the last of his race that had no one to compare to and say ‘this is normal; this is how you are meant to be’.
Neville shook his head mutely. “Those are parts of you I like. You are, well, you. That’s the thing that made me… make the decision I made. But what the other Incubi, and Clans see you as, that what you and he represent, that’s the part I have a problem with. Because they don’t see you for you, and they won’t see him or me for who we are. They will not approve of me—at least, of us. I’m just… me, you know? They’ll want someone better.”
Yellow eyes glowed up from a wreath of dark tresses on the bed. “Would you be sad, Shiny?”
Neville sighed deeply, resting his head on Clive’s shoulder. He reached his free hand out, gently tracing Blaise’s cheek. “What do you think?”
Blaise thought for a long moment. “I think you’d cry. At least, I hope you would.”
Neville nodded. “I would cry for you.”
“Good.”
“Would you die?” Clive asked softly.
“…Yes.” Neville answered, and knew he meant it.
“We would kill any that tried to take you away, Neville. And if they succeeded and there was no hope of getting you back, we would die. Do not worry about Lady Jaha or the High Tieren. They would not sacrifice us three because they did not get their way. Just as we see ourselves differently, so do they see how we can be used for their means. You are just as precious to them in many ways. If anything I fear they will be all too happy to have you securely in their grasps, for you showed no inclination before of joining them.”
Neville thought back to the odd conversation with the Peri Lul, and had to agree. “I think they have something planned for me.”
“We are strong together,” Blaise said. “If you do not wish to be a part of them we will fight them.”
Neville chuckled softly. “We are not that strong. But… I would like to be where you are, so perhaps the High Tieren would not be a bad thing.”
Blaise sighed contently at that, his eyelids drooping. “I am glad. When I am grown I will be a fierce leader. It would be good to have someone like you by my side.”
“Oh?”
“My line turns terrible and fixated on territory at a certain age. I will need someone strong of heart to keep me from doing wrong until my brain chemistry stabilizes. Otherwise… well, the Elf Wars were not pretty.” Blaise stretched, seemingly unconcerned for the beast he could grow to be. “Do you love us yet, Shiny?”
Neville met Blaise’s hopeful gaze. “I don’t know.”
Blaise did not seem upset by the answer. “A day ago you would have answered quite rudely. I remember you calling me very mean names when I asked if you thought you could even like me.”
A wicked grin split Neville’s face. “Even if I do love you, I don’t think I’ll ever like you. Clive is at least agreeable. You’re just too…”
“Loud? Talkative? Annoying? Vain?” Blaise supplied. “I’m not worried; I tend to grow on people.”
“It’s a wonder, but he does,” Clive agreed. “Although, I’ve always quite liked him.”
“Do you feel better?” Neville asked, taking in the sheen of sweat on Blaise’s dark skin and wondering if he had a fever.
“Yes, but I have been dreaming of things I’d rather not think of. While I slept I heard you talking about the Fae Gods and I had visions.”
“Of the past?” Clive asked, leaning forward and draping both boys in his long locks as he examined Blaise’s face for signs of strain.
“No… well, I don’t think so. They were strange. Very unsettling. The faces were of the three of you as you talked, but you were the horrible gods. You two were fighting over Draco, trying to take him away from Harry while he was weak. Draco was laughing, floating just out of reach. And Harry was crying, each tear that fell bursting into dark flames and falling through the Gate to destroy large pieces of the Earth until nothing was left.”
“What a horrible dream.” Neville took Blaise’s hand when it reached for his, letting the boy squeeze out his worry.
“But just a dream. It does not sound like anything you have ever described before,” Clive assured the boy.
“I suppose… Still, it troubles me.”
“Well… I once dreamt that Trevor had grown four feet and proposed to marry me after catching the snitch in a race across the Quidditch field,” Neville told Blaise. “Clearly not real, but it still troubles the hell out of me. Dreams are weird like that.”
“I once dreamt that Loxton was my Charms teacher and wanted me to juggle centaurs while everyone watched and took score. Freaked me out for weeks on end.” Clive disclosed with a frown.
Not to be outdone, Blaise had to join in. “Well I once dreamt that my Grandmum had turned me to stone for breaking something and all these people would walk by trying to kiss me back to normal. Not just any people though, but all my old, old relatives. It was horrible! I refused to go to the next family get together until my mom threatened to pull me out by my ears.”
“Ha, bet you were glad that was only a dream,” Neville said with a scrunched face. “You have some very old relatives, and their powers aren’t strong enough to keep them looking young. Yuck.”
“Too bad you didn’t dream of me,” Clive whispered. “It would have been more pleasant.”
“I dreamt of you plenty. Course it was mostly just that you had come home again. I hated when you left. You were the only fun one.”
“If I had known… Well, it worked out, yes? No point wondering such complexities. You look very tired still.”
“I feel it. But I don’t want to sleep anymore. Not when I can talk with Shiny.”
Neville blushed, feeling awkward. “I don’t have much to say.”
“That’s okay, I just like it when you’re here.”
“We both do,” Clive said, his eyes falling on Neville’s bowed head. “But it is growing late. Will you come to see us tomorrow?”
“Yeah, sure.” Neville looked up, slowly standing from the bed. He wanted to see them again. Right now he felt maybe he liked to be there just as much as they claimed to like him being there. “Get some rest, the both of you. Today was pretty crazy.” He took a backwards step, eventually forcing himself to turn and block the two Incubi from his sight.
“Uh… Neville?” Blaise called shyly before the boy could leave.
Neville stopped cold, a part of him understanding why Blaise insisted on calling him by that ridiculous nickname. As much as Clive revealed himself through the powers of his voice, so did Blaise when saying his name.
“Neville, just, um… could you um…”
“What?” Neville asked, turning to face Blaise. The boy wasn’t looking at him, instead fidgeting with his blankets.
“Could you… No, forget it—it’s stupid,” Blaise mumbled hastily.
Neville’s attention was caught. He was used to Blaise being stupid, so he didn’t think whatever the boy wanted could be worse than usual. “What?” he asked, returning to the bed. “It can’t be that stupid.”
“You’ll yell,” Blaise said weakly.
Neville frowned. “So? That hasn’t stopped you yet.”
“Okay…” Blaise took a steadying breath, staring at his hands. “Could you kiss me goodnight?”
“…Like hell!” Neville barked. “That’s more crazy than stupid!”
“See, you’re yelling.” Blaise sunk down in his blankets.
“Why in the—? I honestly don’t know what goes through your mind sometimes.” Exasperated, Neville looked to Clive for some sort of reasonableness, but the man was only watching him amusedly.
“He is not asking for a kiss on the cheek and to be tucked into bed like a child. He is tired and weak and would like a kiss from one of his bondmates to help sustain him. You are the strongest of the three of us right now.”
Neville’s stomach dropped, and his mouth went dry. “Oh.” He wondered dizzily when the words ‘bond’ and ‘mate’ had come into the whole equations of saving Blaise’s life and grudgingly accepting the Incubi’s attention. “I see.”
Blaise peered from the edge of his blanket that he had pulled up to his nose while Neville walked around the side of the bed and looked down at him. “If you do something stupid, like try to bite me, I’m just going to punch you,” Neville warned blandly, and then sat down. Blaise quickly slithered up in the bed, expectant and nervous.
“Not a snicker, Blaise. And if you tell anyone…”
“Who the hell would care?” Blaise grabbed clumsily for Neville’s collar, hesitating when the smaller boy’s eyes narrowed. But Neville only leaned in, carefully brushing his lips to Blaise’s darker ones. Blaise gave a small sigh, the contact far too short. “That’s nice Neville, really. But I was hoping for something more like this—”
“Ack—!” Neville pulled away, teeth scraping. “Damn it, Blaise!”
“You weren’t doing it right. That little kiss wouldn’t have given me any energy.”
“Well don’t be so pushy about it! I can’t just kiss someone that way, okay? And since I’ve never kissed you before I didn’t want to do that just yet!” Neville went to get up, but the sleeve of his robe was stuck in Blaise’s persistent grasp.
“Don’t be angry. Just… just sit down and kiss me properly, okay? I won’t be pushy.” Neville glared and eventual sat. He made no move to kiss the Slytherin, instead watching him warily as he thought.
“…Please?” Blaise ventured quietly.
“I’m not some sort of energy drink. I have feelings.”
“Energy drink? Such Elf logic.” Blaise laughed lowly and pulled Neville down, startling the other boy. “What am I, Shiny? I need to kiss you for energy, but I’d rather kiss you for other reasons. I’m too weak to do anything fun, yet also too weak to control myself around you. So kiss me already, and stop making things more difficult for me.”
“Fine—just stop saying stupid stuff like that,” Neville whispered furiously, his ears turning red.
“When I’m better I’ll remember how to say things right.” Blaise gently ran his fingertips over Neville’s jaw. “Something about your eyes, and how smart you are, how safe you make me feel. You’re beautiful, you know. Fiery…”
“Shut up now, or I’m going to kill you,” Neville gritted out. There was no mocking in Blaise’s tone, and that scared him more than anything. To shut up that little voice inside that was saying maybe Blaise was being truthful, he kissed the boy, fiercely pressing their mouths together.
“Won’t be enough,” Clive whispered, appearing next to Neville’s ear. “You can’t be angry about it.”
Neville caught himself, immediately remembering what his anger had done to the Incubi earlier that day. He relaxed his hold on Blaise’s shoulders, pulling away slightly to see if he had hurt the other.
“He didn’t say stop,” Blaise said with breathless desperation, his eyes glowing in the dim light.
“Both of you just quiet down,” Neville ordered, his tone less biting than before. He kissed Blaise again, ignoring the whimper from the too soft touch, deepening the kiss slowly like he had first intended.
Blaise tasted of sleep and honey, warm and deep and easy to get stuck in once treading too far. It was a struggle to stay afloat, to stay detached, but somehow Neville managed, knowing if he fell now he’d be lost for good. Once Blaise sighed approvingly he knew he had reached just the right spot, and lingered while the boy drank of his positive energy.
Yes, Neville knew there were less intimate ways to go about transferring energy, but he also knew that the Incubi would refuse them all and starve if only for a single taste. It was their nature, as was the way they would always wheedle and twist and pull until he was bent to their will.
“Happy now?” Neville finally pulled away, unwrapping the claws tangled in his hair.
“No.” Blaise said airily, his expression soft and relaxed. “But I’m getting there. Stay with us tonight.”
Neville snorted, shaking his head. “You’re dreaming. Go to sleep.”
“Keep me warm. I’d kill to…” Blaise fell silent when Clive touched his arm, his attention drawn to the frosty Incubus.
“Leave him be. You ask too much, too soon.”
“Just too much in general,” Neville retorted lowly. “It’s late,” he reminded, taking a few backwards steps. “I will see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Neville. I know that took a lot for you.” Clive bowed his head, and at that moment Neville thought he looked just like a guardian warrior standing watch over his prince.
“Goodnight.” Neville left the room quickly, not glancing back once. In the hall he leaned against the nearest wall, his whole body trembling.
It would stop if he returned to them, he knew. The ache, the pull, it would all cease once he answered their voiceless call. It would feel of heaven and bliss, and he would never return to the surface again. He hadn’t realize just how deep he had gotten until he had kissed Blaise, and well, that had been a big mistake. It had been too hard to stay in control, and the two of them would only be growing stronger now that he was bonded. They’d overpower him eventually, he was only flesh and blood after all, and then he’d lose all sense of self to them. It was only a matter of time.
Hell, but life just got worse and worse for him. He touched his lips carefully, sighing when he noticed his hand smelled of Blaise. Was he really going to join the High Tieren? He would have to rule his clan to do it. There were tasks and rituals to it all, a lot of physical and mental tedium that had to be overcome. They would want him to finish his education first—well, if his Gran had anything to say about it.
He would have to present it at the Winter Solstice. Maybe by then the two Incubi would have figured out that he wasn’t the one they wanted and choose another.
Yes, that probably would be best.
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Awakening To the Dream