drachenmina: (flytrap)
[personal profile] drachenmina
I've just been over on Snape100 exorcising a few demons, so now that's out of my system, here's a bumper pack of fluffy little Dravilles:

Title: Kew Gardens, the Untold Story, part 3. The Home Series.
Author: [livejournal.com profile] drachenmina
Word Count: 100 x 5
Rating: G
Snarry100 Challenge:#76 Home
Characters: Draco Malfoy/Neville Longbottom
For [livejournal.com profile] gin_tonic, who is probably by now wishing she'd never asked...;D


Next day, Neville was surprised to receive a large parcel by special owl delivery. Inside were the biggest box of chocolates Neville had ever seen (Draco was probably still a bit wary around flowers, Neville thought absently) and his cloak.

Draco had had it cleaned, Neville was a little disappointed to note. He clutched it to himself anyway, and imagined he could detect a faint breath of Draco’s expensive cologne.

There was also – Neville’s heart missed a beat – an invitation to dinner.

It doesn’t mean anything, he’s just being polite. Well-brought-up.

So stop thinking about Draco with no pants on.



Draco looked at his reflection, which was gazing back at him with uncharacteristic anxiety. Oh, he looked devastatingly attractive and impeccably dressed, of course, but that wasn’t what he was worried about now.

He could do this. Neville had accepted his invitation by return owl, which must mean he was keen, mustn’t it? – although that loathsome harpy of a grandmother of his was probably a stickler for manners.

Draco recalled with a painful thud just why Neville had been brought up by the antique hag, and just what part Draco’s family had played in this.

Fuck. I can’t do this.


Only his mother’s strict early training on the subject of social obligations kept Draco from owling Neville to cancel their date. Instead, after snapping at the house-elves to bring him a Firewhiskey now, damnit! he turned up at the restaurant, a few minutes late as was proper for a Malfoy, sincerely doubtful as to whether he’d be able to eat a thing.

Neville was already there. He was dressed smartly, but casually, in dark, well-cut trousers and a pale shirt – it was a Muggle establishment – and when he saw Draco, he gave a hesitant yet warm smile.

Draco was lost.


Neville didn’t think he’d ever talked so much in his life. He’d talked about his plants, his career plans – even about his family. Draco had been the picture of polite interest. Clearly his Mum had been even hotter on manners than Neville’s Gran.

Suddenly, Neville couldn’t do this any more – couldn’t keep on rabbiting on while Draco must think he was an absolutely crashing bore. He’d rather the man told him so, instead of sitting there politely just thinking it.

He sighed. “You don’t have to pretend, you know. That you’re interested. I know I’m not, well, very interesting – “


Draco was stunned. He’d been happily sitting there, gazing raptly at the enthusiasm that lit up Neville’s face as he prattled on about – well, whatever he’d been on about, herbs or something, Draco had rather lost focus as he had begun to wonder how enthusiastic Neville might get about…other things – and now he was being accused of faking his interest.

He felt rather hurt, actually. He almost made a sharp rejoinder before he realised Neville’s brave face held only honesty.

Draco took a deep breath, and slid his hand across the table to Neville’s. “I am interested.

“I’m – very interested.”

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August 2015

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