Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
Summary: It's after the war and Draco has to work with Neville when they're paired off to work on a project and he falls deep in his own problems. Fortunately he's also assigned a magical creature that could help pull him out of his depression. SLASH!

A/N: An OLD fic (pre-DH) inspired by a drawing I made and because I'm falling in love with this pairing. Apologies if I got Draco's illness symptoms wrong. Then again I didn't give it a name just to be on the safe side… By the way, there's a lot of OOCness going on, just as forewarning.

Enjoy!

...

Clumsy

...

The day had started out fairly well; clear sky, warm temperature, the air of peace screaming in your face…it was actually getting to the point of becoming as dull as every other day.

Breakfast was the usual clamor of silverware scraping on plates; the low buzz of everyone talking to their friends; and the well-timed owls swooping in to deliver the mail.

For Draco, it was the usual tuning out his friends conversations and looking around the Great Hall. This was just a force of habit from previous years when the war was still on. Before it had been to see any suspicious activity, mostly from Gryffindor; but now it was just because he kept forgetting the war was over.

Perhaps it was the after affects. Sometimes he would forget that he was an orphan. That his parents were alive and that he had to continue finding ways for them to approve of him. But then he'd remember, and it would become hard for him to keep his composure. Each time this happened his coolness would weaken.

Today it seemed that the gods were taking pity. It wasn't so hard to keep a face, and it was easier to swallow his breakfast.

As he looked around the Great Hall he observed each table, wondering idly how easy it was for them to smile and laugh.

Half of the Slytherins were at the table, chatting and laughing like normal people. They weren't receiving glares from the other houses anymore. The other half of the Slytherins had either been killed or dropped out. Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle were among the missing Slytherins. Draco didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

The Ravenclaws were half happy, half quiet. They suffered losses as well, but not as great as Slytherin. Things seemed to be going as usual there too. The same went for Hufflepuff as well, except they were a little happier; Draco had recently discovered that they had a motto; A Smile is the Best Medicine. He didn't test it out, he honestly didn't know how.

Gryffindor surprisingly had little to no losses. Draco figured the reason was that because of their bravery, they were fast on their feet. Then again it probably also had to do with Harry Potter teaching them how to defend themselves. It made the blond angry in the past, but now he didn't care. He was hoping that Neville Longbottom would end up dead by the end of the war, but unfortunately luck was on the idiots' side.

The staff table had a few new faces.

Snape was missing, as well as Dumbledore and Sinistra. Lupin was back as the DADA teacher; Draco didn't mind anymore, not because he was warming up to the werewolf, but because enemies didn't matter anymore. A muggle born had replaced Sinistra, but her name always escaped him; she seemed nice though. And of course, McGonagall replaced Dumbledore as the new Headmistress, she somehow continued her duties as a Transfiguration teacher.

By the time Draco was done observing, the bell rang for classes to begin. He was the last to leave the Great Hall.

. . .

His first class was Care of Magical Creatures with the Ravenclaws. Hagrid had two large boxes sitting beside him, Draco noticed they weren't shaking or growling, hinting the danger that was hidden inside.

"Good mornin' class," the half giant said, his smile slightly sad as he looked down at his small group of students, "today I have fer yeh a rare creature o' th' forest," he turned to one of the boxes, "don' worry, they won' hurt yeh," he said when he noticed his class beginning to inch away. He pulled the latch at the top and push off the side wall, letting it crash to the floor.

For a second no one could see anything, it was so dark inside. Then it was realized that the darkness was the creature. Or creatures, there were more than a dozen dark puppy sized creatures hesitantly moving out of the box, looking around fearfully.

Hagrid gently picked up one and held it close to the class for a better look. At first glance it looked like a puppy, but on closer inspection you'd notice that its ears had three large curves, its body was too thin, its head too narrow, and its tail was curled like a spiral. It looked harmless, especially when it opened its mouth showing toothless gums.

One of the girls cooed and giggled. The creature turned to her and sneezed.

"Nigh' Guiders," Hagrid chuckled, handing the creature to a student and opening the other box. "They help guide the lost ou' of fores's mos'ly, bu' they've become rare because they were hunted in th' past."

"Why were they hunted?" Padma asked, kneeling down to an approaching Night Guider.

"'Cause people thought it as game," Hagrid said gloomily, "but it's been stopped." He clapped his hands, "anyway, yer assignment is ter take care o' them fer a month. If they die, yeh fail. One fer each o' yeh, I'm gonna need th' rest fer my next class."

Everyone quickly grabbed a Night Guider happily. Draco looked down at his own blankly; it looked back just as blankly with its pupil-less red eyes. He wanted to scowl but didn't have the effort to; the creature's silky yet fluffy fur was preventing him. He found it strangely nice when the Night Guider curled up in his arms and fell asleep, strange purrs emitting from it.

It was then he realized that the class was silent and staring at Hagrid expectantly. "Now what?" asked a Ravenclaw.

"Try an' get ter know them," the teacher answered, as if it were the most obvious thing.

"But what do they need, what are we supposed to feed them?"

"Tha' yer gonna have ter figure ou' yerselves."

"What!"

Draco frowned slightly. He knew Hagrid was an imbecile, but he didn't know he was that much of one.

"This is a tes' ter see how well yer good at takin' care o' yer pets," Hagrid explained calmly, "responsibility."

"But we already know how to do that!" cried Padma, nearly scaring off her Night Guider.

"Yeh've had magical creatures like these as pets?" he raised an eyebrow.

"No but-"

"They're diff'rent from normal pets. Night Guider's are rare, bu' there's books abou' them in the library…"

Draco tuned out the rest of the argument. He walked a few feet away from the class and sat down on a tree stump. The Night Guider woke up for a brief second, then fell back to sleep.

Giving in to the urge, Draco ran his fingers through the amazingly dark fur. It was as if they were disappearing into gentle darkness, it felt so nice...like death or sleep…

The rustling of feet approaching snapped him back. He looked up and saw that all the Slytherins were sitting down around him; the Ravenclaws were still arguing with Hagrid. They weren't looking at him, but he could sense that they still considered him as their leader, which was strange after everything they've been through.

No one said anything so Draco went back to getting lost in his pets' fur.

For once Hagrid did something smart for his class. Draco hoped this acknowledgement wouldn't last for the rest of the year.

. . .

He decided to name his new pet, Clumsy because after it woke up and walked around, everything seemed to collapse. What Draco found funny was that he couldn't get mad at it because it was too cute to get mad at.

Nevertheless Potions was a disaster. Clumsy would curiously walk around Draco's ingredients and accidentally drop some into his assigned potion causing explosions and nearly changing the blonds' hair blue (luckily for him, the potion landed on Neville who was sitting in front of him).

What was even more embarrassing was that he was sharing the class with Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs; the two houses that still hated him the most. Ignoring all the taunts and laughter was a miracle.

By the end of the day Draco was ready to skip Herbology. Unfortunately, due to the fact that he needed that class in order to become a healer, he found himself with the rest of his class surrounding the large rectangular table in Greenhouse 4. Fortunately, Clumsy was sleeping at the moment, maybe things wouldn't go badly.

Professor Sprout entered the greenhouse, putting on a pair of gloves as she greeted the class when she stopped at the end of the table in the middle of the room.

"Today we'll be doing a project that will last until the end of the year. It's fifty percent of your grade so I'm sure you'll all do it." A few students paled; the only one interested was Neville Longbottom. "This project will be done in pairs, no one will be able to do it alone," she eyed her top student who blushed, "you'll be working with the Vora," she walked to one of the shelves and pulled out a large venomous looking yellow plant with a large mouth and scattered long spikes. Sprout cautiously laid down the plant on the table for the students to get a closer look.

The professor pulled out a small dead rat from her pocket and threw it a little above the Vora. Immediately the yellow plant straightened up, opened its spiky mouth wide, caught the rat and snapped shut. It made munching noises and then froze like it was before.

Hermione gasped and looked like she was about to be sick, as did everyone else. Some shouted in protest but quickly shut their mouths when the plant snapped its mouth at the noise.

"You will all have to plant the Vora, and raise it until it's this size," she waved to the fully grown plant, "it won't attack you if you raise it right, you might even make it a vegetarian if you like, but it won't live very long."

"Why are we doing this?" Blaise asked. He had become squeamish of holding dead things, and didn't like the idea of doing so to feed the plant.

"This is to make sure that you're ready to handle dangerous plants like these in the future, and because I'm running short of this particular plant. Your potions professor needs them for its roots."

Draco looked hard at the plant. From the bottom it was green, a narrow curvy stem with large wavy leafs, but it gradually became yellow and wider, forming an upside down hemisphere with a long line in the middle that was the mouth with long sharp spikes scattered around the yellow area. A trickle of the rats' blood was slipping out of the corner of the Vora's mouth but then a long skinny green tongue slid out and caught it. Ugh…

"You will all be paired alphabetically," Sprout announced, taking out a folded piece of paper from her second pocket. "Abott and Granger…"

Draco looked around. The class was small, roughly about ten people, and from all four houses, too. It suddenly occurred to him that, as he looked at each of them, they all but the just mentioned pair had last names that started with letters below M. All but one.

"…Longbottom and Malfoy…"

He had snagged the smartest herbology student in the school! For once he was glad to be paired off with Neville Longbottom.

He looked over at his partner and blinked.

Was the boy pouting?

. . .

When class was over and everyone had their seeds, Neville approached Draco and told him to meet him at the library during lunch tomorrow.

The lack of fear and detached tone startled the Slytherin into temporarily blocking the doorway. However he was back in movement when someone shoved him from behind, waking up Clumsy.

Quickly forgetting Neville's behavior, Draco headed toward the Great Hall for dinner. As soon as he sat down and filled up his plate it suddenly occurred to him that he still didn't know what Clumsy could eat. He hoped it wasn't dead rats…

Eating quickly, Draco managed to eat half his plate before picking up the still sleepy Clumsy and leaving the Great Hall for the library.

The Night Guider made a tiny whiny noise and licked Draco's chin, whined again and yawned before pawing at his belly as if to say he was hungry.

"In a minute," the Slytherin whispered before stuffing the small creature under his robes and entering the library. Madam Pince disapproved of having animals in her library.

Once inside, Draco searched through the magical creatures section. Hagrid was right. Although they were rare, Night Guider's were easy to find in books. He took four.

It was when he was checking them out that he noticed that the library wasn't as empty as he thought.

Neville was sitting in one of the window tables, drowning himself in towers of books, all probably about Herbology. Draco hadn't thought of the Gryffindor as a book nerd like Hermione Granger. He was brought back from his thoughts when Madam Pince told him to either stay or leave.

. . .

When he found out what Night Guider's eat, he took Clumsy to the kitchens and fed him some mashed bananas and water. In his way of saying thanks, Clumsy purred and bounced his curly tail contentedly before licking the side of Draco's face.

Surprised at the show of affection, Draco laughed; scaring the house elves who were already trembling at his presence.

He left the kitchens when Clumsy announced he was full by nosing the door.

The castle was quiet; not many students wandered around the corridors at this time of night, and because of that, the torches were a little dim. Draco liked the castle like this; it was peaceful.

Clumsy sat on his shoulder, looking around curiously, his tail bouncing energetically. When he spotted a moving painting, he surprised Draco by making a cricket sound. He continued to make the noise when more paintings appeared.

"What a disturbing noise!" one cranky painting said, covering her ears, "stop it at once boy!"

But Draco smiled. He liked the noise. "All right," he shrugged, "shut up and you won't be so disturbing."

"How rude!"

The journey to the Slytherin Dungeons continued on with the cricket music of Clumsy. All Draco read about was what Night Guider's ate, he wondered how long they lived and if he could convince Hagrid to let him keep Clumsy. It had only been one day but already he felt attached to the creature. He hadn't realized how lonely he was before today.

He was so engrossed in thinking up of ways to make Hagrid let him keep the Night Guider that he didn't see the high stack of books heading his way. He crashed into them, sending them flying all over the place and scaring Clumsy into actually flying away by using his ears as wings.

"What the bloody…sorry, sorry," the person he collided with shook his head and gathered his things.

Feeling nice, Draco helped him. Clumsy floated down and watched the two pile up the scattered books. The blond soon saw that they were all about plants, the Vora to be exact.

Once the books were back to the way they were, Neville found out who had helped him and froze for a good two seconds. Draco was equally taken aback.

"Er…thanks, I think…" he lifted the books and walked away, still looking confused.

The rest of the journey to the dungeons was in complete silence but Draco couldn't stop wondering why he had the image of Neville's stunned face burned in his head.

. . .

It was a sunny day, one of the best days of summer, really.

The garden was in full bloom. All of the flowers both rare and exotic spreading out their colorful petals and soaking up the warm sun. The bees, birds, and butterflies fluttering around not disturbing the humans but enjoying the beautiful and peaceful life of nature. It almost made Draco want to cry with joy. He was in his utopia again.

He walked around, admiring the plants and how the sun gave them more beauty than any human could ever achieve. He sat down on a bench in the pathway; sighing contentedly as a soft breeze blew over him and making him realize that his whole body could feel it. He looked down at himself and saw that he was dressed in the clothes his mother had wanted him to wear for the family portrait.

An off white loose shirt that was made of a thin and soft material making him feel as if he were wearing nothing. The sleeves were long enough to cover his hands, the ends were frilly; a strange touch but he kind of liked it, it gave off a Victorian look. The shirt was loosely tucked in his black pants. They were also made of a thin expensive material, and they were also a bit baggy; they were tucked in black leather boots that reached halfway up his knee. He felt like someone snatched from the past. It was a good feeling.

"Draco."

Turning to the voice he saw a woman walk toward him. She was holding up a small frilly white umbrella with one white gloved hand, her shimmering blonde hair done up in a way so that she had a kind of flowery look. She was wearing a white ribbon around her neck, her dress looking as if it came from the Edwardian era. It covered her chest in a slightly risky curve; leaving space to put on a simple but very expensive locket necklace, the sleeves covered her arms, poofing up at her shoulders. The dress hugged her waste tightly but expanded from her waste down by splitting at the middle, it looked like a slightly inflated balloon. There was so much detail to the dress that Draco found himself becoming lost in the flowery patterns of off white lines.

"Draco," the woman repeated with a smile. He looked at her mildly shadowed face and recognized her. "What are you doing out here, you know too much sun will make you faint."

He shrugged and cracked a small smile. "It's not so bad today; at least there are a few clouds."

She sat down next to him and laid a gloved hand on his. "You know that's not what I meant."

He stared off, bit his lip and looked down at his lap, his throat was closing again. "Mum can we not…can we not talk about this anymore." His mother squeezed his hand gently, then raised it to pull him close to her, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. She kissed the crown of his head and rested her chin there. "mum…"

"Draco please," she begged quietly, "I don't want you to die, please stop hurting yourself, move on."

"But-"

She pulled back and kissed his forehead, "you're going to be late."

. . .

A pillow slammed down on his face, ripping away his sleep. He squinted his eyes open and groaned tiredly, looking around for his attacker. Theodore looked at him with a satisfied smile and walked away.

"Get dressed; we'll be late for breakfast."

Before Draco could say anything, Clumsy hopped on his lap and licked his chin; that was the highest he could reach anyway. "Morning," the blond said, petting the Night Guider. He received a purr and a cricket chirp.

"Draco I think you need to see Pomfrey about those dreams, they're exhausting you," Theodore said as he gathered his books from his trunk, "I know you're doing well in classes, but I'm starting to worry."

"I'll be fine," he slipped out of bed and stumbled to his trunk, pulling out his clothes. He was used to Theodore worrying about him but it was getting annoying, "you should be more worried about Potter."

He didn't look up but he knew that the Slytherin froze. "What are you talking about?" he wasn't a good actor; they both knew it so Draco wondered why he continued to try and put up acts.

"What do you think?" he stood up and turned to him. When Theodore didn't say anything he continued, "Enemies don't matter anymore now, so stop pretending or you'll hurt yourself."

Still Theodore said nothing; his face was rapidly going through so many emotions. Draco turned away and got dressed; it was too late for a shower. Clumsy jumped onto the pile of books he was taking. Theodore was still standing behind him.

"We have Healing with the Gryffindors," he said eventually, leaving the room first. Draco followed, his Night Crawler cricketing in hunger.

. . .

Breakfast was the usual ritual. He tuned out the conversations and just watched everyone enjoy their meal as they laughed, talked, or just kept to themselves. The crowd seemed a little happier today though. That was obviously because today was Friday, Career Class Day, Draco nicknamed it. Every Friday all the students had the classes they wanted for their careers; a thing McGonagall made so that the students could be more prepared for their future. Draco found it to be fun because new subjects had to be made.

After eating some of his bacon he decided he was full. He wanted to leave but Clumsy was still eating his mashed fruit.

"Draco?"

He looked up at Blaise who was filling up his second plate of cereal, "the assignment for Muggle Studies, it was on chapter thirteen, right?"

Draco stared for a moment. After the war Blaise was the most affected within Slytherin. He risked everything in order to protect his family; they were alive but now Blaise had grown almost as forgetful as Neville. And along with being squeamish of dead things, he had become obsessed with staying clean and collecting statues of angels, especially magical ones that were guaranteed to protect.

Draco looked at the necklace around his friend's neck; it had a tiny silver angel with her wings spread out and her body as straight as an arrow with her arms extended outwards from her sides. She was staring up at him with her blank silver eyes. Draco looked away.

"Yes, it was chapter thirteen," he said, poking his bacon with his fork. Blaise sighed in relief.

"Good," he smiled, "for a second I thought it was thirty." He went back to his breakfast, leaving Draco wondering if perhaps it was thirty.

. . .

Healing went better than Draco had expected. Clumsy was so full from his breakfast that he fell asleep with a tiny burp while the blond worked on the assignment of practicing a particularly tricky spell; stopping poison in the blood vessels without disturbing the blood flow.

By the time lunch came around he was on his way to the library, Clumsy, awake again, sitting comfortably on his shoulders.

There were a few people wandering around or running to the Great Hall. Draco didn't bother to make them stop; if they got into an accident it was their problem. He wasn't Head Boy anymore, having passed it on to Theodore.

"Draco!"

An image of a stunned face flashed in his head and he turned sharply to the voice; maybe a little too sharply because he scared a first year nearby and almost let Clumsly slip off him. But he couldn't help it; someone outside of Slytherin had called him by his first name, and it was from someone he least expected it from.

Neville caught up to him, his face a little pink. "We don't need to go to the library anymore; I have everything set up at Greenhouse Four."

All Draco could manage to say was a dumb "oh" before he followed the Gryffindor out of the castle. He was beginning to wonder if Neville and Blaise switched places because the waves coming off of the teen in front of him seemed too confident.

"I read a little more ahead than I planned," Neville explained as they walked down the beaten path to the Greenhouses, "I found a way to make the Vora become a vegetarian but outlive the average carnivorous Vora so we won't have to feed it any dead rats."

"You don't like holding dead things?" Draco asked, reminded of Blaise's phobia.

"I don't mind holding, I just don't like it when the body gets all mangled and bloody when it's getting eaten."

"Oh…" They stepped in Greenhouse Four.

When it was empty, Draco found it to be peaceful to be surrounded by plants, but since Neville would be with him he didn't know if the boy would rant on about how interesting plants were or keep completely silent in their work.

It was a little of both at first.

Neville briefed him in about the basic information of the Vora but gave him the books he had piled on the table for him to read. Once they planted their seed in a large pot the place was in silence. Draco read the books he was given, and Neville tended to the other plants in the Greenhouse, an extra credit job he took for Sprout since she was too busy with grades to take care of all the plants herself.

A few windows were open, letting in the cool breeze and keeping the Greenhouse from becoming too humid. Draco was skimming through his fourth book and gently scratching Clumsy's head while Neville was at the other side of the room, whispering to a moving daisy.

For a while the whispering didn't bother Draco. But as time slowly went on, he was becoming so curious that it was becoming a constant itch.

Then the daisy trembled as if he were giggling. He couldn't stand it anymore.

"What are you saying to that…daisy?" He felt stupid saying it, his cheeks started coloring.

Neville straightened up and faced him, he didn't look mad or embarrassed, but he did look kind of concerned though he was mostly calm. The strange stare made Draco turn away and blush more in embarrassment. He shouldn't have said anything.

"I'm just encouraging it to grow even more, is it bothering you?"

"No."

"I could leave; you still have more reading to do." Clumsy cricketed and ran across the table, jumped off the edge and flew into the Gryffindor's arms, startling him.

"No it's okay, I was just curious was all, you don't have to go."

Neville gave him an odd look but just nodded.

It was until later that day that Draco realized he may have said the wrong thing.

Or maybe the right thing.

. . .

The next few days were the same uneventful days as the ones before, with the exception of not having lunch anymore now that Draco and Neville were using that time to work on their Vora assignment.

In those days Clumsy had taken a liking to Neville, sitting on his shoulders while he tended to the plants. Draco had learned that the Gryffindor had a habit of talking to them, but it was all whispering so he couldn't hear what he was saying, just assumed it was encouragements to grow.

He had also gathered up enough information about Theodore's secret crush to know that things were beginning to look grim. He was tempted to tell his friend the news, but he knew it wouldn't go very well; Theodore was very slow to fall out of love.

So Draco decided to intervene before things worsened.

"Are you in love with Potter?"

It was the third week into the project and the Vora right now was a thin curvy stem with a small ball at the tip, it was growing exactly on schedule.

Neville, who was again talking to the much larger daisy, slowly turned around with a confused and shocked face. "What?" he said slowly, blinking as if he heard wrong.

"Are you in love with Potter?"

"And what possessed you to ask that?" he crossed his arms, eyeing him strangely.

Draco shrugged, "because if you're not, then I need your help."

"My help?" he raised his eyebrows, "for what? You're not making much sense."

"I have a friend who's unfortunately in love with Potter," he said slowly.

"And that friend happens to be you," Clumsy jumped off his shoulders as Neville walked closer to the table, "you're still not making sense."

"I do not love Potter," he nearly yelled, "besides you didn't answer my question."

The Gryffindor sighed, "I only love him as a friend, now what are you planning to do with him? If you need my help then you'd better tell me who this help is really for."

Draco blinked. In the days that he worked with Neville he expected a refusal from him. The confidence that screamed from him, and the fact that he seemed to only consider their relationship as partners in their project and nothing else enforced that belief. Why did things have to continue changing when he got comfortable with the first surprise?

"Theodore," he answered plainly, "he wanted it to be a secret but if Potter's going to end up hurting him by liking someone else then I don't want to be the person he comes crying to; he can be very sensitive."

Neville stared at him blankly, then looked away and started thinking. Draco waited patiently; this was turning out better than he thought.

"Why do you need my help?" the brunet asked eventually.

"I just need you to get Potter to like Theodore," he said quickly and innocently.

"Figures, how?"

"Just hint at him how great Theodore is, you don't need to do anything fancy."

"You could do this job easily yourself," Neville frowned, "why the need for my help? And how do I know that Theodore won't hurt Harry either?"

"Theodore is incapable of hurting anyone but himself, I can't do the job myself because OBVIOUSLY Potter and I aren't the best of friends, so I need your help because apparently, Potter likes you."

Neville didn't show any sign of surprise, just frowned, "I suppose he has been hanging around me more than usual, Ron even pointed it out to me, and Hermione's been asking me if I like anyone…problem is that Harry's pretty oblivious so it'll be hard to convince him to like someone else without bluntly telling him...is that all?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he shrugged

Clumsy cricketed and jumped back onto Neville's shoulder when he turned away.

Somehow Draco felt like he should have said more.

. . .

"Your father's still trying to find a way to return."

He was back in the flower garden, in the same breezy clothes for the family portrait, on the same bench he had last sat on, and next to the elegantly dressed Narcissa. Nothing had changed but the conversation but he knew it would go back to the worry his mother always had.

"He doesn't trust me with the fortune," he said dully, "if he keeps it up I really will give it all away."

His mother laughed lightly, "I don't doubt it."

He smiled and leaned his head on her shoulder, "am I doing better?"

She sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "I wish you were, but helping Theodore isn't fixing your problem."

"Why can't you tell me what it is?" he almost begged.

"You know I can't, I'm forbidden, and I want to tell you so badly." She held him tightly, "you're getting worse, it's like they want you to die and join me."

"Wouldn't that be better?"

"What's the point of living if you die early and you had a choice in the matter? What message would you leave behind?" she faced him sharply.

What message would he leave behind? That he was a spoiled rich orphan who sided with the Dark Lord? Would it matter to him if he died and no one noticed that he didn't care about enemies anymore? Probably not…

Yet there was still Clumsy, he seemed to be the only innocent thing who willingly stuck by his side….Still…

"I'm tired of it!" he cried, hugging her, "every day's the same it doesn't interest me anymore! I can't…there's nothing new, I…"

"You always see something new," she said soothingly, rubbing his back, "you just ignore it the next second, you're not paying enough attention."

"I'm trying…"

"Try harder."

. . .

He stared up at Theodore's sheet white face, his hands tight on his shoulders. It took a few seconds but he realized he was breathing fast and his eyes stung. Clumsy was looking down at him too, from Theodore's shoulder.

"Wh-what?" he croaked.

"You were dreaming again," he let go of him; "you haven't seen Pomfrey have you?" He took the silence as a no, "damn it Draco! What are you trying to pull!"

"Nothing."

"Rubbish!"

Draco sat up and wiped his face, "they're not bad dreams…"

"Of course they are! Look what they're doing to you…" he ranted on but Draco ignored him, stumbling out of bed and pulling out his things from his trunk, dressing quickly while pulling out a few books. "Now what are you doing!" his voice reached his ears again.

"I'm getting ready for class, what does it look like?" he looked up and stopped for a second. Theodore was still in his pajamas, yet the room was filled with sunlight, "what time is it?"

He didn't like the look he was getting. "It's twelve but it doesn't matter, it's Sunday."

What?

Draco frowned, "it's Wednesday."

"No, it's Sunday, the day after Saturday."

"It's Wednesday! Stop joking! I know it's Wednesday!" Why was he panicking? He knew that people sometimes forget it was one day instead of another; but he was so sure… "It's Wednesday, it can't be Sunday."

"Shit…" Theodore walked to his trunk and started changing, "it's Sunday, Draco, don't you remember?"

He honestly didn't know. So, with a scowl, he broke for it and ran before Theodore could stop him.

. . .

Was amnesia the thing that his mother tried to tell him? How could he stop that? Or was it something that caused it? He couldn't think of any head injury, he had been in the sun for a while but not for a dangerously long time…

He opened the door to Greenhouse Four and sat down on the nearest stool. He had to think.

The cricket sound announced Clumsy's entrance a few seconds later. He jumped onto the table and lied down before his master, mewls coming out in small whimpers of helplessness over Draco's predicament.

"We don't have a meeting today, Draco."

The blond straightened up, startled. "Sorry."

Neville frowned, pulling up his large bulgy goggles and resting them over his forehead. He wiped sweat off his forehead and sighed, "This is the fourth time you've come here with no explanation, what's wrong?"

Damnit! What had he been doing these past few days!

"How long have I been coming here?" he asked, his heart pounding at the feeling of being so lost, "when there's no meetings, I mean."

"Ever since yesterday," he shrugged; he started looking at him funny again. "Are you all right?"

Draco didn't answer for a while, thinking hard on what was happening and what date it was. His head started hurting at the effort, and the world went to the side for a second. He almost fell off his seat.

"I think you should see Madam Pomfrey, you look sick," Neville's voice brought him back. He looked at him and was surprised to see concern; Neville rarely expressed concern for him.

"Is it…the 25th?" he asked nervously, clenching his fists.

"Yes."

Good. He sighed and relaxed a little. At least he hadn't jumped a whole month or something...

Neville sat down across from him and rested his elbows on the table. Clumsy mewled again so he reached out and petted him. "What's going on?"

No response.

"Draco?"

"Huh?" he blinked, shaking his head and then quickly stopping. His headache was worsening, "sorry."

Neville glared at him. "Come on," he stood up and walked around the table, "you're completely out of it; you've been out of it for days."

"What?" he looked up at him, he never noticed Neville had stretched so close to his height, "days?"

"Come on, we're going to the hospital wing," he laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Okay…" he nodded slowly, gingerly getting off the stool. He felt weak all of the sudden, his whole body felt strangely heavy. He looked down at himself and first spotted his hands.

They were bony; he could easily see veins through his pale skin. He knew he was skinny but surely not this skinny…

Then he was overcome with the sensation of his stomach feeling empty, wind blowing past him and his eyes rolling back.

He was falling.

. . .

"…Going to happen sooner or later…loss…parents…terrible…"

"…Do I do…project to…"

"Don't worry."

He frowned slightly, trying to make out the voices. He licked his dry lips and tried to think back on what happened. The smell in the air and the familiar voices told him he was in the Hospital Wing, but for what reason was still confusing to him.

"He's waking up."

His eye lids refused to open; they felt too heavy to move. What was he doing here?

A flash image of Greenhouse Four came up, and then another of the floor coming up fast to his face. Did he faint? Why did he faint? The sun was covered by clouds today, he was sure of it.

"It's Sunday."

"It's Wednesday."

Is it still Sunday or have I skipped another week? He thought idly. The presence of someone at his right made him turn there. Then a warm hand touched his forehead and he felt himself smile slightly.

"He seems all right now," it was a woman who spoke, Pomfrey he soon realized, "but he must stay here for a few days, he's too weak to go to classes."

"What do I do then? We have a project to finish."

"Just bring in the project, simple as that."

His eyes cracked open by a millimeter. The light wasn't that bad so he opened them another millimeter, taking in the blurry shapes that were sharpening into Neville, Clumsy, and Pomfrey hovering above him.

"Draco," Neville said, leaning down a little, "how do you feel?"

Like you shouldn't talk to me in that tone like I'm your wife, he thought a bit grumpily. "Weak," he managed to say instead. Clumsy licked his cheek and nuzzled his neck, it was comforting.

"That's expected for someone who hasn't been eating for a while," Pomfrey said sternly, walking away to her potions cabinet.

"What is she…" he looked up at Neville.

"Don't worry about it, I'll just bring Theodore here, he still doesn't know," and he was gone.

Before Draco had time to ponder why he wanted Neville to stay, Pomfrey started stuffing potions down his throat.

. . .

Six years of a snobbish blond kid growing steadily snobbier with each passing year, and now in the very last year of Hogwarts, he immediately declines in snobbishness and becomes a silent dying shadow. It was to be expected, Neville rationalized, seeing as the blond's parents died at war. Still…Neville thought Draco was stronger than that. Did he love his parents that much? Before their deaths they only seemed to be accesses to getting whatever he wanted, and now with them gone he had control over the Malfoy fortune.

He must have loved them, Neville concluded, or at least admired them. Almost anyone could remember how much Draco wanted to be like his father; and he never took insults about his mother lightly…

He found Theodore in the courtroom with Harry, sitting side by side on one of the stone benches talking about something that had to do with Barbie dolls.

"Theodore, I need you to come with me to the Hospital Wing," Neville said when he reached them.

"Is there something wrong?" the Slytherin asked, standing up.

"Kind of, it's about Draco."

"What happened?" he paled, "is he all right?"

"Yes, he's just weak; he fainted a while ago."

"Great…" he grimaced, "I told him to go to Pomfrey-he never listens!"

"I'm sure it's not that bad, is it Neville?" Harry asked, feeling slightly in the way of the sudden news.

"Er…right…not…well, not terrible," the teen stumbled. Theodore looked worse than worried and Harry just raised his eyebrows, "uh…why don't we just go to the Hospital Wing."

They left the courtroom.

. . .

The visit was as expected. Theodore ranted on about how Draco couldn't take care of himself, and then blamed himself for not being more assertive about his friend's declining health. Harry and Neville stood in the sidelines during the event, Neville threw in some comments when questions were directed at him but Harry was silent for once, looking like he felt he was intruding in something private. Draco hated the whole event.

In the end Pomfrey had to kick them out, leaving the blond to rest and eventually fall asleep.

He awoke again the next day, disappointed to see that he didn't dream with his mother. Pomfrey must have slipped him some Dreamless Sleep Potion. Damn her.

Clumsy was sleeping on his lap when he awoke, kicking his legs randomly as if he were running in his dreams. It was cute; Draco almost smiled, running his fingers through the Night Guider's fur.

Pomfrey found him and gave him oatmeal for breakfast, making sure he finished it entirely. To his surprise, he found it really hard to finish after taking the first spoonful.

Theodore visited later on after he had his nap, bringing him his homework and lunch. They talked about the days events, avoiding the subject of Draco's health. What annoyed the blond, though, was the fact that whenever he wasn't sick, everything was boring, but now that he was, the whole school became a circus.

In the morning there was a fight between Dennis Creevey and Zacharias Smith over Colin's honor. Dennis actually won despite his mouse-like size by giving Zacharias a good punch in the eye and a knee kick to the gut; they both got detention. In DADA gossip exploded when Harry braved himself and stole a kiss from Theodore on Hermione Granger's suggestion. In Transfiguration a student accidentally cast a spell on McGonagall making her dance the Charleston. Another student cast a spell on Hagrid later that day and got him to sing a muggle song called Jailhouse Rock. By the time lunch came around there was a food fight started by Neville himself when he spotted a guy bothering a girl nearby.

"He explained it later, actually, when he confessed to starting the whole thing," Theodore said when he finished summarizing the days' events so far, "you should have seen Blaise, he looked like he was about to have a panic attack or something."

"Figures," Draco said, petting Clumsy as he crawled up to his chest, "I have a favor to ask." At Theodore's silence he continued, "I'm supposed to turn Clumsy in soon but I don't think I'll be out of here by then. Can you tell Hagrid that I want to keep Clumsy?"

"Manipulate or just tell?"

"Both would be best."

"All right…"

The door at the entrance opened and a big plant walked in, followed by Neville. He walked over to Draco's bed and set it on his bedside table with a thunk. The Vora growled but did nothing else.

"Do you think Pomfrey will let us keep that here?" Draco asked, eyeing the growing mouth warily, "it could bite my head off when I'm asleep."

"I didn't tell Pomfrey what it was, just that it was very important, that way she'd let me bring it in; and I'm not keeping it here, it's not really the perfect environment, but we have to watch over it closely for any kind of change, it's a very delicate plant to grow even though it's pretty strong when attacking and I'm sorry I bored you two shitless," he blushed in embarrassment.

"You're an obsessed herbologist, of course you're going to flaunt it," Draco cracked a small grin, "a hello would have been better though."

"Yeah, hi," he flushed, sitting down, taking out his journal from his bag, "how are you by the way?"

"Better," he smiled.

Theodore raised an eyebrow.

. . .

It was after convincing Hagrid that Clumsy could stay a permanent pet, and after Draco left the Hospital Wing completely healthy that Theodore shut his mouth on fussing over his friend. Instead he chose to observe him closely, like Draco did to him not so long ago. His friend looked healthier spiritually if there was ever such a thing; his long periods of spacing off kept getting shorter, he ate more, he spoke more, and he was actually smiling more.

Theodore wasn't stupid.

But he couldn't understand how the reason of the change escaped him. He knew what made the change but he didn't know why, and he knew Draco would never tell him because he knew less than Theodore when it came to himself.

So he went to a smarter source.

. . .

Neville lowered his gardening scissors on the worn wooden table. He pulled up his goggles and rubbed his eyes with a thickly gloved hand, dirtying them with dirt. He took a deep breath and thought back to the meetings with Draco.

Eventually he shrugged and shook his head. "You'll have to tell me all the details; I don't know what I did."

Theodore sighed. Okay…so maybe the smarter source was the even dumber source. Shaking his head he left the greenhouse and took a stroll down the pebbled path, his thoughts deepening but ending up nowhere.

There had to be some reason…

He fell in love with Harry because at the beginning he thought he was handsome. Then his feelings grew past that and he started to appreciate the modesty, the desire to not be a hero but sticking to it anyway without knowing it, the love he had for his friends, and pain for the dead ones, and he was great at quidditch too!

Pausing, he shook his head. He was losing track of thought.

Why would Draco fall-WHAM!

"Oof!" he bounced off of something large and fell to the ground, bouncing again.

The thing he slammed into moved, spinning slowly until Theodore realized that the dark muddy thing he now saw was a coat. A hair covered face high above the giant figure looked down in surprise.

"Nott? Wha' are yeh doin'?" he lifted the teen up, nearly crushing him in the process, "aren' yeh s'posed ter be at lunch?"

"I wasn't hungry," he rubbed his sore back. A cricket noise caught his attention; there was a Night Guider standing on Hagrid's shoulder, it was much larger than Clumsy though still very small.

"This is Bambi," Hagrid said, scratching the Night Guider under her chin, "a studen' di'n't wan' her so I kept her."

"Oh…" He wasn't interested.

"Is somethin' wrong? Yeh look a bit depressed."

"It's nothing," he smiled politely, "I guess since it's the last year and all…"

"Ah, righ'," he nodded, "if yeh need a bit of cheerin' up all yeh need is a Night Guider," he smiled fondly at Bambi.

"Huh…?" He didn't have Care of Magical Creatures this year so he barely knew anything about Night Guiders.

"There's a reason why they're not hun'ed down anymore." Bambi crawled down his shoulder and accidentally slipped into a chest pocket, she poked her head out looking surprised. "Healer's use them fer patient's who are depressed."

"I don't…what?"

"It's a new thing they've dun," he shrugged, "I though' the assignment would be good fer the students leavin' this year, 'specially those who feel lost because of th' war."

Theodore's jaw slackened. Then…Draco wasn't in love?

At the lost look on the teens face, Hagrid was surprised. He never saw that kind of face on any of his students before, just fear, which was a pity because magical creatures really were amazing…especially dragons…

"Can they also help lead lost people to other people?"

"Eh?" he blinked, Hungarian Horntails dissipating from his daydream, "oh-o' course! Wai' wha'?"

"Can they make two people fall in love?"

"Uh…" he scratched his beard, looking toward the sky, "only th' female's can, don' know abou' th' male."

Well this was news.

. . .

He knew he was supposed to go to dinner; he was still under heavy surveillance from Theodore and Pomfrey, and maybe even Neville because he always gave him a sandwich or something in their meetings. But for every god's sake he was fine now! He was healthy! He wasn't a walking corpse anymore damn it!

Besides, he had to catch up on school work. Even though he completed all of his work at the Hospital Wing he still didn't understand a few things, mainly because his head felt foggy at the time. So now he was in the library, stuffing himself in textbooks.

Clumsy was hiding behind a wall of books purposely piled up so Pince wouldn't see the creature. In reality, Draco's studying time was barely a few seconds, he couldn't help being distracted by his pet who had chosen to have a goofy day and play with the pink bouncy ball Neville gave him.

The Night Guider pawed at the ball, sniffing it and biting it, purring softly in content. Draco buried his fingers in his ebony fur, enjoying the softness and smiling when Clumsy leaned over and licked his fingers.

At the moment Draco was reading over some of the plants his herbology class was introduced to while he was still sick. So far all he got engrained in his head were words that made no sense. He needed a better book.

Closing the book with a thump, he stood up and went to the Herbology section; all the way at the back of the library, in other words, right next to him.

Thumbing through dusty aging books with titles that suggested they were very boring Draco heard someone drag something behind him. Although the presence of this stranger made him uneasy, the blond tried to ignore him and randomly chose a book so he could leave.

He was startled shitless when a hand was laid down on his shoulder. Turning sharply his cry of anger was swallowed when he found himself nose to nose in front of Neville, a tad too calm for Draco's liking.

"Er…" Draco felt his cheeks heat up, they were so close…why was Neville taller than him?

"Sorry," Neville mumbled distractedly. He was standing on a stool and had apparently tried to reach to the top shelf and ended up needing to hold onto Draco's shoulder for leverage. Pulling back and stepping down, he held the book he was trying to get and smiled sheepishly.

"U-uh…it's all right," Draco blushed harder, holding his book to his chest, "you just scared me."

Now there was silence.

Why is he staring at me? Draco drummed his fingers on his book; he could feel himself shrinking under the other boys' gaze. The problem was he didn't know if he liked it or not, his heart was racing.

"What is it?" he finally asked.

He frowned a little, and then became thoughtful. "Theodore spoke to me today. He said something...surprising to me."

Theodore? "What did he say?"

"That you fell in love with me." What a way to be blunt.

"What!" His face turned red and he backed into the book shelf, rattling it.

Neville blinked, eyebrows raised. "I guess he was right."

"No wait, why would he say that?" how red was his face now? He wondered.

"He said that ever since you had to work with me, you've changed," he shrugged, "I've noticed the change as well."

Draco wanted to argue, but his mind went back to their work with the Vora, and everything that happened after that. He couldn't see much of a difference except that he was eating more, and he was more alert. This couldn't be all because of Neville!

"Is it true?" Neville took a few steps closer.

His heart was running a marathon. He couldn't answer the question, why was he feeling so warm?

"Wha…" he swallowed, it came out in a squeak.

He was so close him now, and still staring at him with that gaze that…Draco's eyes widened, it was a predatory gaze. The Gryffindor's body was a breath away; he leaned over to his ear and whispered. "Draco, is it true?"

The warm breath sent tremors down his spine; he shivered and shut his eyes. He couldn't speak anymore, it was impossible in this position. He nodded, embarrassed at feeling cornered into confessing something so personal.

"Hm? It is?" Neville looked at him with raised eyebrows.

That got him back to normal. "What do you want, a prize!" he hissed.

"Huh?" he blinked, then laughed, resting his head on his shoulder. "I thought you'd say it wasn't true."

Great…He swallowed and tried to relax, he wasn't used to this much close contact. Just from his mother…

"I was hoping you'd say it was true." Neville smiled softly, taking Draco's hands in his own, "I don't know why yet, but I'd like to give it a chance."

They were a couple now? Draco blushed again, now finding some comfort in Neville's body being pressed against his. What should he do now? His hands felt so gentle, it was relaxing. Actually everything was relaxing now.

"Neville?" He started. Said boy had been staring at him while he was thinking. "Um…" he looked down. With the sunlight coming through the window beside them, and new emotions coming into light, looking straight into Neville's face was suddenly a hard thing to do.

Light breath ghosted over his lips, and before Draco could think of doing anything else, they captured him.

They were soft and gentle, and they made him shiver again. He was going to fall from his weakened knees soon.

Hands held his waist, keeping him still as his kisser boldly decided to make their kiss deeper.

"Mmph!" He hesitantly pulled Neville closer, their tongues exploring with growing fervor. It felt…better than nice but Draco was too busy to think of a word to fit it.

"Draco," Neville gasped quietly, breaking away, "wha…"

He looked down. Through their kiss he had somehow managed to wrap his legs around Neville's waist. More embarrassed than ever, he jumped down and straightened his robes. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Madam Pince hissed in her loudest quiet voice. Both teens paled before the librarian. Did she see them!

She pointed down to Clumsy who looked up from the floor in front of them and cricketed innocently.

"No animals in the library! Out!"

End