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Wanting Harry*

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"What do you wish for?" he asked, removing his robes in front of Neville on the sofa. Neville, unable to take his eyes off Harry.

Neville gulped silently and bit his lower lip. "You," he whispered. "On me."

"And what do you want to do?" Harry asked, walking over to Neville, sliding down on his lap.

"Fuck—" Neville uttered.

"What?" Harry leaned in close.

"Fuck you. I want to fuck you, Harry."

"That's a good boy," Harry answered. He gulped and hiccuped. "Blimey, the Polyjuice is wearing off."

"Bloody hell, Malfoy. Take some more."

"It's your turn now," Malfoy answered.

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"When can you get some more?" Draco asked desperately since he and Longbottom had recently discovered that they were all out. They could no longer continue their "game" until they had more of Potter's hair.

"I told you, he's on holiday and hasn't come in for a while. Don't worry, he'll be back sho—"

Draco groaned. He was getting impatient. It'd been a week since he'd had a good shag and they only did it with Polyjuice.

"Why don't you go and try to satisfy your need the old fashioned way?" Longbottom asked, shaking his head as he twirled his wrist, commanding the broom to clean the floor.

"The old fashioned way?" Draco raised an eyebrow and placed his hands on his hips. Longbottom only chuckled and Draco scowled.

"For Merlin's sake, Malfoy! Go to a pub. Pick up a bloke!"


"Why?" Longbottom shook his head again and sat on the barber chair where usually his customers sat. "Because, clearly you're horny."

"Oh," Draco said, and frowned again. "You're not?"

"I can wait," Longbottom answered like he was the most patient being in the universe.

Draco leaned in and whispered in Longbottom's ear. "What are you doing tonight?"

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Shagging without Polyjuice wasn't very fruitful. The fact that it was Malfoy only made things complicated. Neville was comforted with the thought of Harry inside him. But, Malfoy? He wasn't getting on board with the idea.

"Where are you taking me?"

Malfoy dragged Neville through a dark alleyway after Neville agreed to see him that night. Their indiscretions now had a very permanent rule. They'd only shag each other as Harry, the Champion.

After the second wizarding war, the Prophet had deemed Harry that title and it seemed to fit. He didn't really seem to care as he became more and more secluded and secretive.

"We're going to solve our problem," Malfoy said, "since you insist on the rules."

"They're your rules too!"

Malfoy sighed; he stopped and indicated for Neville to look into the window of the pub they had ended in front of.

"What do you want me to do?" Neville asked, slightly scowling.

"Go get what we need," Malfoy said, in a matter-of-factly sort of way.

"You're ridiculous. How am I going to go in and just yank some strands of hair off?" Neville looked in between Malfoy and Harry who was sitting in the pub, alone.

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The Thirsty Scholar was Harry's favourite pub. There was nothing special about it except for the fact that it was one of the only discreet places in the wizarding London where no one really seemed to mind him.

Bartenders poured him his drink, smiled, and took his money. He liked that. It was his own little miracle, having found someplace where no one cared about him, or the latest gossip.


Harry looked up from his pint towards a familiar face, confused having seen it.


"I'm not bothering you, am I?" Neville asked, slowly approaching Harry, looking scared of something.

Harry laughed. "No, of course not," he answered, smiling. "I was just getting bored with my own thoughts. Glad you're here."

Neville seemed to sigh with relief and sat next to Harry.

"What brings you here?" Harry asked; he'd never seen Nev at the pub before. He didn't even know that Neville knew about it.

"Just you know..." Neville shrugged. He ran his hand through Harry's hair, and Harry inadvertently leaned into the touch. "You need a haircut, mate."

Harry stiffened up. Of course that was the only reason Neville would do such a thing. He was Harry's barber.

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"Harry, what's the matter?" Neville asked, curious at Harry's reaction.

Neville had just run his hand through Harry’s hair, and he’d sort of leaned into it. Had Neville just imagined that?

Why would Harry do such a thing?

His curiosity was getting the best of him. It couldn't be that Harry was interested in Neville, could be?

Neville bit his lower lip and leaned in close to Harry. He had a question to ask. He smiled hesitantly and parted his lips to say something. Much to Neville’s surprise, Harry leaned in himself and kissed Neville. Leaving him breathless and speechless.

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How did Neville get here? Not that he minded, but, Malfoy was waiting outside and his wildest dreams had just come true. Harry, his friend who he secretly had a crush on before he’d even realised he was gay, was kissing him.

Kissing. Neville.

Harry pulled back from Neville and gave him a curious look.

“I— I don’t know what came over me,” Harry said; his body became rigid and he turned to pick up his pint glass. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled into his glass and took a sip.

“No, Harry. Don’t,” Neville said, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

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Draco watched from the window as Longbottom entered the pub to talk to Potter. The plan was simple. Longbottom was going to talk to him, get a few strands of his hair that might have fallen on his coat, and walk out.

Why Longbottom was sitting there for so long chatting with Potter was lost on Draco. Leave it to the Gryffindors to start conversing about the weather. Why was it so hard to get in, get out, and get the job done?

Draco sighed and looked around the alley for something to entertain himself with. Then when he turned his gaze back inside the pub, what he saw, he couldn’t believe!

Potter and Longbottom were snogging! Snogging!

The nerve!

Draco’s feelings were in a maze. He wasn’t sure if he was cross or mystified. Besides, the idea of the man he liked to fuck, and the man that he was actually fucking were kissing each other was rather intriguing.

Was Draco going to be a part of this or was Longbottom done with him?

“Bloody hell,” Draco said, frustrated. He was annoyed and turned on.

Longbottom got what he wanted. What if he didn’t want Draco anymore?

“Like hell.”

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Neville looked past Harry's shoulder and found Malfoy glowering at them. He got an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach and it hurt. Why did he feel like he was cheating on Malfoy? Why was he so stuffed with these feelings of guilt?

"Where'd you go?" Harry asked softly, placing a finger on Neville's chin and focusing his attention back on Harry.

"Sorry. Just..." Neville smiled, running a hand through his hair. "Harry, I can't...I mean..."


"No! I want to, but I'm not alone." Neville rushed to get his words out before Harry'd think the wrong thing. He was hesitating, but not because he didn't want Harry, he wanted more.

"What do you mean?"

"Come to my place tonight. I live in the flat above gran's, so use the Floo. She's good at giving me privacy and doesn't bother me in the evenings. I'll--we'll explain then."

Harry looked so lost Neville wanted to explain everything to him right then and there but he didn't want to risk anyone overhearing them. He thought about a privacy charm, a stronger one, but it wasn't fair to Malfoy.

Shit, when did you start giving a crap about Malfoy?

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If Neville were a true friend, he would have told Harry right then what he was on about. The trouble was, this concern for Malfoy really came out of nowhere. He didn't want to think about Malfoy. He didn't even like Malfoy.

But when Harry made his move on Neville by kissing him, which had been one of Neville's fantasies, he couldn't help but feel guilty about it.

Now all he wanted to do was share Harry. Share Harry with Draco fucking Malfoy. Honestly, what was wrong with him.

When he left the pub, Malfoy followed him down the alley.

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"What did you say to Potter?" Malfoy grabbed Neville by his arm and whirled him around. They hadn't made it all the way back to Neville's flat yet and he wanted to wait until he got home to explain things to Malfoy.

"He's coming over later," Neville said and kept walking.

"What? Why?"

"Why do you think, Malfoy?"

"What did you tell him?" Malfoy's voice was stern, but Neville caught the hint of it wavering. When he turned to look at Malfoy, he'd schooled his expression.

"I told him I couldn't...I couldn't go through with it. Not without you."

"You're fucking crazy," Malfoy said. "Potter would never. Never with me." Malfoy took a step back as if he'd just been slapped in the face and now he was getting ready to run away.

"No, don't," Neville said, reaching out. "Stay with me. Come home with me."

Malfoy looked hesitant so Neville walked up to him, closing the distance between them. "If you want me to just be with him...if that's what you want, okay. But what I want is for us to share. I don't feel right..."

"You're being a stupid Gryffindor." Malfoy smiled and Neville kissed him.

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"I don't know what you expect out of this," Malfoy said with a frown. "I'm not sure he'd want--I mean, isn't that why we--"

"I'll explain it to him," Neville said.

"Explain what? That we polyjuiced ourselve--"

"I'll tell him we both want him. That we're both interested. If he's to have us, it has to be together."

"Longbottom, you can't be serious."

"Of course I am serious!" Neville snapped. "Malfoy, isn't this how we got started? Now this is our time for a fresh start. We can have him. He can have us. There's no pretence of polyjuice, we're in this together. If you don't want this, Malfoy, then fine; your prerogative. But tonight when he was kissing me, I wanted it, but I wanted you there too. Maybe I'm too simple, you'll think I'm dumb, or naive, but it's how it is. I want you both. I'm going to try to get you both."

Malfoy pushed Neville. He started to step backwards until he hit the wall; then, Malfoy's knee was between his legs and his lips were hovering over Neville's. "I don't care what Potter wants. But, I know I need to have you right now..."

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It was still slightly strange, they'd agreed never to get together as themselves, but the moment Harry had kissed Neville, Neville had known it wasn't Malfoy. And then, he'd wanted Malfoy also. This was so convoluted, he was confusing himself.

The sun was setting, his room was slowly getting dark; Neville hadn't lit the candles yet. He smiled at Malfoy, who leaned down to kiss him, and Neville, for the first time kissed Malfoy.

Sure, they'd kissed before but it wasn't the same. Everything was changing now. Everything Neville felt for Malfoy was becoming real; maybe the same was happening to him.

"You'll stay though, right?" Neville asked softly as Malfoy settled himself between Neville's legs. Neville arched up, bringing their bodies closer together.

"If he won't want to kick me out..." Malfoy said softly, his face resting in the crook of Neville's neck as their bodies moved together.

Malfoy's one hand travelled up Neville's chest, he brought his other one in-between them, stroking their erections together.

"It's you and me," he whispered softly and Neville smiled.

"Yeah, it's us."

"And it's different."

This was truly the first time for them. As Neville and Draco, and it was bloody brilliant.