A/N: So I don't think this counts as a drabble? It's over 2k words.

Anyway, for your reading pleasure, may I present (per my bestie's request) Neville Longbottom and (for my own amusement, heavily influenced by the liking of Slytherin girls I got from reading works by ff author provocative envy - who is awesome, btw, definitely worth looking at) Daphne Greengrass's Adventures in the Broom Closet?

Staring down at the top of Daphne Greengrass's blonde head, Neville wondered how on earth his life had taken such a sharp turn that he found himself pressed into the corner of a broom closet, his knees weak as the Slytherin girl sucked on his cock. (Her mouth... Neville would have thought maybe he had died and this was Heaven, but if that was the case, he probably would not be getting a blow-job from Daphne Greengrass – he figured his Heaven would be a little more mundane, like maybe being buried up to his elbows in plants and dirt in the greenhouses. As far as Heavens went, though... this was fairly fantastic. And completely unexpected, which somehow made it even better.)

He had been walking toward the infirmary, feeling a bit out of sorts and then… It had all happened so quickly – bumping into a girl he barely knew, the stammered apology – the kissing…

Suddenly, Daphne hummed – or maybe she moaned; all he was aware of was the vibration – and instantaneously his train of thought was obliterated, every muscle in his body seizing as he struggled not to blow his load in his classmate's mouth. He barely succeeded, especially when she took her mouth from him, the suction making a wet pop as his head came out.

"Oh Merlin..." he breathed, and the Slytherin huffed a quiet laugh.

"Try not to invoke the name of a bearded old man while I'm blowing you, alright Longbottom?" Daphne said, her light-colored eyes – he couldn't figure out if they were grey or blue or green in the dim lighting – dancing with amusement that did nothing to hide the lust in them.

"Er... ah... yes, of course," he stumbled in reply, feeling his face heat and his pulse race as she palmed his shaft, turning her gaze to it instead of him. He wasn't sure he if he should be grateful for that or not.

"It's alright, Neville," she said, wrapping her fingers around him and taking advantage of the saliva left there to give his dick a few experimental tugs. He sucked in a breath and forced his mind onto plant classifications to keep from exploding all over her face. Merlin, if he'd known how good this sort of thing felt, he would have... well he probably would not have done anything, so it was probably better that he had not known what he was missing.

At least, not until now. Merlin! He tried and failed to bite back a groan as Daphne flicked her tongue out over his head, fucking humming again as she collected the pre-cum leaking from his tip. He would die – she would kill him – he would die in an agony of pleasure, and he could not be sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"You know, when I tried this before, this stuff just tasted sort of salty." She paused to lick him again, this time taking his head in her mouth and giving it a hard suck, running her tongue all over him like she was enjoying a lollipop and not a penis. "But you, Neville – may I call you Neville?" She turned her face up at him and he nodded, almost frantically, and lost what breath he'd gotten when she grinned at him – it was beautiful, and sinful, and fucking perfect, Merlin, he was going to die – and said, "Good; you can call me Daphne then," and turned her eyes back to his cock.

"You taste like cocoa. Your mouth was like mint chocolate, and now your dick," her cheeks got a little flushed when she said the word, a flush that was utterly endearing to Neville for whatever reason – he was not thinking about why he found things cute, not with her eyeing his prick like that, "tastes like pure hot chocolate. And I'll have you know... I love hot cocoa.

"What I really want to find out now, Neville," her eyes met his, and he knew, absolutely fucking knew that he was a goner, because her gaze was wicked with intent, and he knew exactly what she was going to say before she said it.

"I'd really like to know if your come tastes like chocolate too."

"Oh Merlin..." he breathed again, and she laughed, right before she opened her mouth and wrapped those gorgeous lips around him again, and her tongue, her fucking tongue was fucking magic, and – Merlin's beard! – she knew exactly how to use her teeth, and how to suck just right, and – and –

When Neville's mind slowly returned from its state of whited-out bliss, he found himself slumped halfway to the floor, Daphne smirking and licking her lips while she sat back on her heels with her hands on her knees. She looked so much like a cat who had gotten the cream over giving him the best fucking orgasm of his life – Neville could not resist.

Acting almost instinctively as he reached out, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her lips to his, enjoying the startled widening of her eyes before he tasted her again – the flavor of chocolate now mixed with his favorite mint (how the fuck did that happen?). And she just sat there for a surprised second before she responded, throwing her arms around him, practically climbing into his lap and kissing him back with equal fervor.

(He had a moment to think to himself that it was a very good thing Hogwarts had some abnormally large broom closets, and that they happened to be by one when… well, he still wasn't sure what had happened, but it had ended up like this, and this was definitely the time of his life.)

There was a mad scramble at their clothing, a frantic desire to feel skin on skin - hers was smooth and creamy beneath his calloused fingertips, with pale pink nipples that, when he ran his thumbs over them, tightened and darkened, his actions making Daphne gasp and shiver in delight before she would kiss him harder, her nails dragging against his back – especially when he brought his mouth down on them. That drove her wild, leaving her moaning and gasping his name, murmuring "Yes, yes," over and over again – and every inch of her tasted minty, delicious and cool under his tongue, the flavor exploding in his mouth when he had worked his way down to the spot between her legs and lapped up her juices.

When he sucked on the little nub there, she clutched at his head with not just her fingers but her thighs as well, holding him there as she screamed his name and jerked against his mouth. And even though she had squashed his ears, he was grinning when she relaxed, mostly, and he could move up her body to look into her dazed eyes.

He loved that she flushed when her gaze met his and even her mutter of "Don't get too cocky, Longbottom," made him laugh, doing absolutely nothing to wipe the smile from his face, especially since she did not hesitate to kiss him back when he lowered his head to kiss her.

When he shifted though, laying his body between her legs, and his prick pressed against her inner thigh, he felt her relaxation and her welcoming embrace stiffen, tension suddenly radiating from her. Immediately he pulled back, looking down at Daphne with a question in his eyes – one he did not have to voice for her to understand, though her gaze met his only briefly.

"I've never actually had sex," she said, her voice trying to be very blunt, but Neville could hear the quiver that said she was nervous – he was a little surprised by that statement, after what they had done so far, but what his mind automatically focused on was that quiver.

"Neither have I," said Neville, trying to be reassuring, and ducked his head when Daphne gave him a look that was somehow fond and conveyed the sentiment of 'no duh' perfectly – well, he supposed it was fairly obvious.

"I know that Neville."

"Er, right."

She made no move, not to push him away, and did not say anything, but nor would she meet his eyes again and she did not pull him closer. After a moment of uncertainty, Neville sat up, away from her, and was rewarded with Daphne's startled light eyes darting to his. "We don't have to, you know," he said, frowning when she laughed incredulously – and bitterly. That stung.

"Neville, haven't you realized?" Daphne said, sitting up as well – Neville would have mentally congratulated himself for not looking down at her breasts as she did so, but he was still fixed on the expression on her face and the tone of her voice to pay the attention a teenage boy ought to pay to a pair of naked tits.

"Realized what?"

Daphne's exasperated expression melted to uncertainty in the face of his sincere ignorance, and she rubbed her lips together before licking them, a nervous gesture that just made him want to kiss her again.

"Neville..." she began slowly. "Did anyone give you something? Something... edible? Or a drink? That you... consumed right before we ran into each other?"

"No..." Neville started to say, only to stop himself before finishing the 'n' sound and remembering – "Ginny gave me a chocolate she got from Lavender. I think… she said Lavender got them from Ron who... got them from Fred and George..."

Neville's grandmother might not think of him as having much wit, but he was not at all slow, and a moment later he groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

"Yes," Daphne said, her voice dark. "We've been drugged."

"A lust potion?" Neville asked, his voice muffled by his hands.

"Yes. Though I don't know what kind. So I don't know the effects. Just... if it is a lust potion, I doubt you'll be able to stop yourself." Then she snorted. "I wasn't able to stop myself from snatching out your cock and stuffing it in my mouth. And I know I didn't consume anything. So we're going to have sex, because I'm not leaving this closet until I'm sure the potion's worn off of both of us. Alright?"

"Alright."

Neville, who had not been thinking much at all since he had bumped into Daphne and they had pulled each other into this closet, suddenly felt rather like a very large arse. A feeling that inspired a need to apologize – this was all his fault.

"I'm sorry, Daphne."

Daphne looked at him with an expression that he could not quite decipher – it seemed parts suspicious, confused, and… intrigued? Slytherins were a complicated bunch to read, he thought. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, Neville."

"But I do," he said, voice earnest as he leaned toward her, and he watched her eyes dart down his body, pupils dilated, before she yanked them back to his face – the potion's effects? This was not right – it was not fair that his actions had forced this on her. "If I hadn't eaten that chocolate, we wouldn't be in this – and I shouldn't have eaten that chocolate, because Ginny told me where they came from, and I know what Fred and George are capable of –"

"Neville," Daphne interrupted, putting her hand over his mouth to silence him when he looked ready to continue on without letting her speak. She waited a moment to ensure he would not talk over her, then took her hand from his mouth. He almost wanted to lick it as she pulled away – but refrained, trying to concentrate on her words instead and ignore what he now realized was the tainted chocolate's influence.

"While it is very sweet of you to try to apologize for something that is not your fault – yes, you ate the chocolate, but to be fair, the Weasley twins, from what I know, do not have anything in their arsenal of pranks involving sex, so the worst you might have expected was puking or some sort of nosebleed. So please – stop trying to take the blame. It's very Gryffindor of you, and kind of cute, but absolutely unnecessary. Leave the blame where it belongs – with the Weasleys for cooking up the lust potion, for giving tainted chocolates to Brown, and for giving them to you."

Neville opened his mouth, about to protest, but then he thought better of it, closing his mouth and smiling a little instead. "That's very… Slytherin of you," he said, amused, and was rewarded with Daphne's smirk.

"Of course," she responded smoothly. "Slytherins are very good at putting the blame where it belongs."

Neville laughed again and noticed the way Daphne's mouth twitched up at the corner and her eyes softened at the sound – did lust potions inspire that, or was that real? He wondered, but then decided maybe he did not want to know – for now, this was nice.

But there was still the issue of the sex – and the way Daphne seemed not at all comfortable with the idea, even if she tried for nonchalance. "Um… do you think that maybe… you would be more… er… or less opposed maybe? If you were… on top? Like… maybe it would help you to feel in control?"

She stared at him incredulously for a moment before her eyes got all soft again, and he felt a little mushy inside himself (though not his dick – that was still hard enough to ache a bit) at the expression.

"You're a really nice guy, you know that?" She went up on her knees, edging toward him, and took his face in her hands as she nudged him into a position similar to hers. "I think I actually like that about you." His hands came up to cup her face and he smiled back at her, right before she slanted her lips over his and he was once more lost in the taste and feel of this girl.

Virgin they both may have been – but when they snuck out of the closet early the next morning, glancing furtively around to make sure no one saw them, Neville thought they probably could have written a book on the subject of sex. Each. He was a little proud of that fact.

He was more proud of the way he had asked Daphne to join him on the next Hogsmeade weekend – and not even almost running right into Filch on his way back to Gryffindor tower could wipe the smile off his face. Not when it was from her saying yes.

A/N: And there's that. Fluffy, smutty goodness. Review? ;)