|serpens_fic (serpens_fic) wrote,|
@ 2010-07-02 14:00:00
|Entry tags:||angst, draco/neville, fests10, fic, hurt/comfort, nc17, neville, slash|
The Pruning of Draco Malfoy (NC17)
Title: The Pruning of Draco Malfoy
Pairing(s): Neville/Draco, implied Neville/multiple others
Word Count: ~8,100
Summary: People are more like plants than they sometimes realise.
Warnings: underage characters (17), AU, caning, mentions of torture, BDSM, character death (no main characters), reluctant!sex, public!sex, purple prose
A/N: Initially the Draco/Neville scene was meant to be a flashback and setup for Neville's character development, with Neville ending up with someone else, before the flashback just took over and became the story. Someday I may write the other 'half'. Written for Sunporn.
The Great Hall is filled to the seams with students. All the seventh years are back as eighth years, because while they are all well versed in the casting and enduring of multiple dark curses, they are unsurprisingly lacking in their core classes. Neville thinks of themselves as Legacies - Survivors of a war. He feels his experiences like an indelible brand; certain he cannot, will not, ever forget. Too much happened that last year. Too many suffered; too many died. Too many things changed. The school itself, once his refuge, now holds memories of war.
Without Dumbledore as a Headmaster, the school had become little more than a prison camp. Half-bloods and Muggleborn were ejected from any class deemed too noble for their low birth; they were demoted to classes on cooking and cleaning and drudgery, taught by the house elves. Pure-blood bigotry was enforced for all the normal classes (even McGonagall's class was strictly monitored, her every word repeated to the Carrows and to Snape); those who refused to parrot their ideals were punished, often and severely. The only peace they had at all was at night, when they were sent to their respective dorms.
Angry and desperate to fight back, they fought amongst themselves, until - it was Seamus, Neville remembers this clearly - until Seamus came up with a lottery idea. They would compare days, and whoever had the worst day could take it out on whoever had the easiest day. It was utterly ludicrous in retrospect, but they'd grasped at straws, and somehow it had taken enough off the raw edge for them to get through each day.
Somewhere along the line the fighting had become fucking, then fucking and fighting. And from there things had gotten downright - well, downright kinky. In the privacy of their dorm room things were simplified and boiled down, until a line was drawn between Need to Hurt and Need to BE Hurt, and Neville usually ended up in the former category after the end of a torturous detention with the Carrows. He was surprised to find he liked being assertive; he was even more surprised to learn he liked causing pain, so long as it was clean (their rules had been simple: no hexes, no curses, no permanent damage). He liked feeling powerful when everything else was utterly out of his grasp.
He'd been disturbed to realise his propensity for pain, and had worried at this self-discovery like a sore tooth until he decided that it really wasn't so much different than gardening. Some of the things grown in the greenhouses were vicious and hurtful, but were useful in the right places, with the right safeguards. If he could find a use for his own tendencies, where they did more good than harm, then surely it was no different than, say, learning to use Venomous Tentacula to treat necrosis caused by Icethorn sap. Bringing back the affected area hurt like blazes and often made the patient no little bit ill, but it also brought back use of the frozen muscles. Or maybe - maybe it was more like trimming back a shrub or tree, so it can flower more beautifully, or fruit more prosperously. After all, pruning surely wasn't pleasant for the plant, tree or flower involved but it was still necessary for its health. Sometimes, he'd realised, it has to hurt before it can feel better.
He didn't set out to hurt people who didn't want to be hurt, or who weren't at least willing to be. He learned to recognise people who needed that kind of pain, and to offer what they needed. Even more, he learned to give them what they didn't know they needed, as well. He balanced pain and pleasure, anger and forgiveness, and found himself growing more confident for it.
The ritual had spread to the rest of Gryffindor house but it was Ravenclaw to first leap across the house boundaries, first to see something they needed and smart enough to make it work for them. They were the ones to put words to what they were doing - like BDSM and sadomasochism - and the ones to insist on a 'safewords' policy and insist nothing happened without supervision (they were careful, and Neville more so than any, but accidents still happened). Hufflepuff joined them, loyal and without judgment, and they all suffered together.
And then Slytherins had found their way into the circle. Well, one specific Slytherin who was so desperate to escape his ghosts he'd resorted to asking a Gryffindor for help.