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or was the garden a dream

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July 30th, 2014

He was being kissed awake. Warm lips wandered from Neville’s temple to his cheek, moved on to the side of his nose and came to rest at the corner of his mouth.

Draco had long since learned not to attempt a proper kiss until Neville had given a sign of approval. Neville lay still for a moment, contemplating whether to lean in or allow him to make another detour that would make him turn his head so Draco could reach the hollow of his throat.

“Morning,” he whispered, and then it was several moments before they separated and the greeting was returned.

Neville tried to judge by the light whether they had the time to laze around in bed for a while. They’d been in Necochea for several weeks, but unless he had one of the guest house’s many plants in his direct line of sight he still couldn’t tell the time half as well as he did in Scotland.

“The brat said he’d look after the Scylla Lapageria before breakfast,” Draco murmured into his ear. Neville shivered at the sensation. “You’re mine for another hour, unless you don’t trust him.”

“Oh, I trust him,” Neville hummed and settled back down. Teddy had always shown more interest in Potions than Herbology, but after Remus had promised to let him pick his very own curse to try and break the summer after he’d turned seventeen, he’d made a motivated assistant to all adult wizards in Prof. Caceres’ little circle. “The ‘gerias will be sad when he leaves for home tomorrow morning.” So would Neville.

Fingers tangled in his hair. “Ah, but before that, he’s going to help you climb the Napostá Grande and see about those Migrating Cacti,” Draco confided and proceeded to smile innocently when Neville’s eyes flew open, acting every bit as if Severus hadn’t refused to let his son do just that every previous time Neville had asked.

“I can’t believe that boy is not in Slytherin,” Neville sighed before hugging the only one of the conspirators that was currently available. “What about you, won’t you come with me?”

Draco stuck up his nose. “I’ll fly.” This circumvented the hug into a light shove and the persevering smile into a giggle. “Oi!”

Neville took the opportunity to jostle the leg that had been somewhat trapped under Draco’s weight. He didn’t feel half as lazy anymore and any ants that might have begun to gather would not be conductive to his rapidly forming plans. “I’ll show you ‘fly’,” he muttered.

They were late for breakfast.

 

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