A morning shag

Professor Malfoy waited patiently for the first years to settle. He observed the way they paired up at their desks. He felt compelled to laugh, but staggered the impulse. Once he had everyone's attention, Draco Malfoy folded his arms above his chest and strode in front of his desk. Leaning against it, he began to speak. It was almost the same introduction every year.

“For those of you who don't know my name or haven't seen my face before, I can tell you that I am professor Malfoy. I teach Defence Against the Dark Arts and Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts for those privileged few above the age of seventeen. It is my job to arm you against the forces of darkness. And I strongly believe that the only way to make each and every one of you into an adept wizard or witch, is through the Three P's!” Draco turned about, strode to the blackboard and wrote:

Practice
Practice
Practice

“This is the first and the last time you'll ever see me use the blackboard during Defence Against the Dark Arts classes.” He drew in a deep breath. “Being a wizard or a witch means that you're naturally good at wielding magic. But only those of you who practice until you bleed, will truly be brilliant wizards.”

Draco Malfoy put down the chalk and took a few measured steps towards his class. The round, plush faces with big bright eyes followed every move he made. Reality had begun to sink into their heads about just what sort of professor this was.

“I expect all of you to show up at my classes wearing training gear and proper foot attire, with wands at the ready and your focus high. I do not believe in text books. I expect each and every one of you to have read and prepared yourself ahead of my classes. If I catch anyone sitting around with his nose in a book during class, then that student will be sent directly to the headmaster's office with a warning, is that clear?

Eager nodding from all students. Draco just loved to watch realisation dawn on them. To see the respect slowly paint their faces.

“Slytherins” professor Malfoy continued, “are the worst sort of students. They are the troublemakers, the fast-talking, untrustworthy, false and lying serpents of this school. When I don't teach Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, I'm out there hunting down your criminal relatives. And I tell you this: Seven out of ten criminal wizards or witches, are Slytherins. When the Ministry asks me about who they should be on the look-out for, it is MY recommendation they listen to. And I base parts of that recommendation on how you behave in my class in the years to come. Your conduct at Hogwarts will reflect on your families. In my opinion, if there's a bad Slytherin seed at Hogwarts, then the whole family is rotten.”

There. Delivering the death blow to the students was the most satisfying event of the entire year. He watched them curl up in fear, their backs straightening and the silence wrap itself around until every Slytherin hardly dared to draw breath in fear of catching professor Mayhem's attention. The Ravenclaws stared down in their desks and the Hufflepuffs shut their books. Really quietly. Only the Gryffindors dared to gaze respectfully up at him, and for a moment, Draco thought he saw several Harry Potters.

“So you see, dear little Slytherins. If you wish to prove me wrong, if you wish for me to see that you are men and women of honour, then you shall have to work thrice as hard as your fellow students. For yes, I am pretentious.”

Draco met up with Neville for lunch. In public, they preferred a respectful distance, not showing any signs of affection other than being friends and colleagues. It was a game they both enjoyed, and it increased the tension between them. How long could they go on pretending that there was nothing between them? How long after lunch before one of them would yield and pop the question?

Neville had forgotten a book back at his office. Having about twenty minutes left until next class, he risked running out to the small office next to the greenhouse. He liked there. It held a view out into the courtyard, and the window was shrouded with wild-growing ivy, giving it a feel of nature and stone in one. There was much to be done this autumn. He had spent the summer walking the scenery, collecting herbs, seeds and plants to cook potions from. But he was far from finished. There were certain herbs which grew and others which blossomed only during autumn. He thought about this as he entered his study, paying little heed to the walls which were covered in sketches and notes, arranged neatly between bottles and pots with seedlings, plants and candles. He jumped and yelped loudly as the heavy oak door shut tight behind him with a loud bang. Turning on his heel, his heart skipped a beat as he saw a black-clad figure. Sighing, he realised it was Malfoy. Dressed in a tight-to-the-waist long tunic which fanned out, reaching down to his ankles, Malfoy was dressed to the nines. He combed his fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his face.

“I need to collect some more herbs later on this afternoon. Want to have dinner in the forest?” Neville asked, watching the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor come closer.

“Yes.” Malfoy was silent, and when close enough, he planted a kiss on Neville's lips. He held it for a long time, kissing Neville tender and delirious. He wrapped one hand around Neville's waist, drawing his husband close. Neville had lost more than thirty kilos over the past years, becoming a tall and thin man with dark mysterious eyes. He wore his head shorter than Malfoy, though the hair at the front often tickled his eyes. He was in all, a few inches taller than Draco, and over the course of their acquaintance, Neville had adopted a permanent frown on his forehead, his eyes always searching and hungering for the blonde former Slytherin. He reached for Draco's hand, brought it to his face and nuzzled his mouth against it, smelling the familiar scent of Draco's skin.

The gentle way Neville treated his hand was enticing. Those lips ghosted across the skin of his hand, across the ring finger with the Malfoy ring, the bearer of the ring being the Lord of Malfoy manor. Draco felt a familiar tingle in his crotch. He brought out his wand and directed it towards the window. With a flick of his Hawthorn wand, the ivy on either side melted together, obscuring the view into Neville's office.

“So how is the first day going?” Neville asked quietly, leaving small, tender kisses on Draco's thumb. Professor Mayhem swallowed and felt an ache in his penis. He cringed as it sprung to life, fighting its confines and growing. Fast.

“Oh you know” Draco swallowed, “you're turning me into a blabbering idiot.”

“Not you. The students” Neville corrected his husband, who was swallowing hard, obviously on his way into lust. “Do you need some … correction? Down here?” Neville said, his hand disappearing into Draco's pants with great skill. Finding the fighting erection, he helped correct its painful position.

“I think I scared them” Draco swallowed. His jaw hung open. The sensation of Neville's hand in combination with Neville's fairly unreadable face was enough to melt him completely. Suddenly, Neville frowned. He leaned in and sniffed at Draco's chest. He bowed down and smelled more intensely. Draco yelped and cringed as Neville's hand dug deeper. Revealing it afterwards, Neville held up his hand in front of them. His fingertips were coated with blood.

“Yeah. I thought I smelled as much. You're opening.”

Draco craned his neck back and stared into the ceiling while he let out a disappointed moan. “No, not again” he whispered.

As much as Draco wanted to, he could not be Neville's completely. Since his sixth year at Hogwarts, fate wanted it so that instead of becoming a Death Eater, Draco had become the servant of an eudaimon. As where demons sought to destroy innocent lives and promote the wicked, the eudaimons sought to annihilate the wicked for their crimes in life and devour their souls. Believing in hereditary sin, Draco's eudaimon had come in order to make Draco pay for his father's liaisons with Lord Voldemort. Instead, the eudaimon had fallen in love and taken Draco to be his servant. So many years had passed in the eudaimon's service. And with the turn of the seasons, Draco's body opened up to receive the sperm of the eudaimon, allowing yet another eudaimon to spawn in his belly. Draco had some and forty children now. Including the ones he'd begotten with his wife. Dead of old age, Draco had moved on to settle with his lover. They had been married for nine years, and Neville had stayed faithfully by Draco's side even when Draco had to leave him in order to satisfy the eudaimon whenever his body opened.

It no longer hurt when his body opened. It was a cavity which led to Draco's most sacred place: His womb. And whenever Draco's body opened, the eudaimon and his peers went ballistic. So did every other demon. For resurrection – to spawn inside a human body and become solid flesh – was the highest aim of all.

Draco thought of Harry Potter. How simple things were back in those days. But that was a lifetime ago. So was his life with his wife Hermione. All long since gone and off into the wind. Memories. Now, he had Neville, and Neville had him. Neville had been given a choice. And between death and an immortal life with Draco, Neville had chosen immortality. Together, they raised the eudaimon's spawn as their own, occasionally taking in foster children as a diversity.

“Well” Neville sighed, giving Draco a short, lopsided smile. I guess that's that then.”

“No! No, no Neville, oh come on, we've made love before even though I have been open. It doesn't mean – !”

A rush of cold wind swept through the room even though there were no windows open. There was a tug in Draco's chest. It seared through him, down to his belly and his abdomen.

“He's beckoning you now, isn't he?” Neville said, almost sounding offended. Draco only nodded, feeling despair bloom in his chest. “This is why you've been all over me lately. You're in heat again” Neville continued.

“Don't say that. You make it sound as if I'm a dog.”

“Go to him. Get it over with” Neville replied, ignoring Draco's remark. He didn't seem angry. Neville was never angry. He never displayed jealousy or such things, but Draco suspected as much. It couldn't be easy to share one's husband that way. Then again, the eudaimon was so mighty an entity that there was no use even trying to match him. Feeling caught in the middle, Draco threw his arms around Neville's neck and hugged him tight.

“I love you, you know that!” Draco told him, combing his finger's through Neville's hair at the nape of his neck. Neville loved it when his blonde counterpart did that. It made him relax.

“Yeah yeah, and still when you return you're pregnant.”

“I cannot say no to him, you know I can't!” Draco wailed and buried his face next to Neville's jawbone.

“I'm just teasing. Go now” Neville said, pushing the blonde away. He stood on the same spot until Draco had left and shut the door afterwards. Neville swallowed hard and steeled himself. Even after so many years, it was tough to have to surrender his husband to that thing. So many years, and the topic was still taboo. They had parented so many children, but none of them had been Draco's and Neville's. And Neville had never been able to muster up the courage to ask the eudaimon if he might be permitted to impregnate Draco. Just once. Beating himself up mentally about it, Neville sat down in his chair, sighing dejectedly. His thoughts went to Harry Potter. Now, Harry and Draco had been in the sack a few times before it really became Draco and Neville. Draco had still been married, yet they had ended up in bed after a rather moist night on the town. Harry had later on, under much pressure from his friends, admitted that it had been a dreadful experience of sorts. Mostly due to the fact that Draco despite his drunkenness had been a bedroom dream, experienced and skilful. And Harry had felt like a teenager fumbling about with his lover for the first time ever, coming across as clumsy and insecure. He had described Draco as a live volcano. A sex machine. Luckily, Draco had come first and then fallen asleep in Harry's arms. It was a memory Harry rather would just bury alive and forget. But Draco never teased him about it. It was in fact never spoken of. They moved on as if nothing had happened between them, and Draco often refused to talk about it. It had been a mistake.

The word 'mistake' made Neville wake up. Here he'd been sitting in his chair, reflecting on the past when he should be fighting for the future. He hopped from his chair, tore the door open and rushed outside. Neville always thought of Harry Potter when he was in need of direction. Or courage. Or a reason to at all take action. There had always been a barrier, or a deep cleft between Draco and Harry. The chemistry had never really been quite right. The attraction between them was something of a fatal nature considering they were two of the most powerful wizards back in their days. Harry had squandered his chance with Draco. He had pulled away and allowed the distance between them to grow, though fate – and the Ministry – kept pulling them together.

'I am glad he's finally dead' Draco had told Neville during Harry's funeral. It meant that Draco no longer had to struggle against Harry. Lightning wouldn't strike between them every time they were no more than a few feet apart. And Harry would no longer make Draco feel like a criminal.

Neville rushed out into the courtyard. He came to a sudden halt and spun around.

“Have you seen professor Malfoy?!” he asked passing students. They all pointed in direction of Hagrid's hut, and the Dark Forest. Neville produced his wand, knowing that this was not wise. There would be plenty of demons about now, trying to get a piece of Malfoy before he was united with his eudaimon master. And if they could get to Neville and use him to get close to Malfoy, then they would. Neville ran faster. It was still warm and sunny, with lots of light. Draco would probably be headed towards the lake. It was the same lake which by harry Potter had been standing a lifetime ago, fending off the Dementors with the Patronus charm. It was the same lake where Draco had been raped by the eudaimon for the first time during his sixth year. It was Draco's and Neville's favourite spot. By this lake, on a green patch, they had so often made love in the past, and it had been the spot where Neville had intended to bring Draco later that evening. Now, Neville ran for his life, searching wildly for his husband. He reached out with his wand, and shouted “find Draco”. The Patronus leapt forth from his wand and bolted ahead. Neville had to be out of his mind. Going up against an eudaimon during prime time opened Draco. It was folly! It was suicide, and the eudaimon would certainly blow a fuse! Still, Neville Longbottom would not turn and go back. He had set his mind on this, and the Gryffindor that he was, he would see it through.

Neville Longbottom was a man who did heroic things sporadically. He preferred the exciting life as an herbologist, and had more than enough excitement with Draco and his children. But once in a while, the old Gryffindor in him sailed up to the front row. Planning ahead in such moments, was unheard of. Like Harry Potter, he made it up as he went along. He ran past their favourite spot, onwards into an older part of the forest, often frequented by spiders. Neville pressed on, certain that he saw huge black wings heaving up and down in a clearing just ahead. Eyeing Draco and the eudaimon, Neville failed to see the root, and he tripped and fell, rolling down the small ledge until he almost landed on the eudaimon's feet. Looking up, Neville stared straight into the face of Draco's master.

The eudaimon looked like he was in his mid-forties, sporting long silky brown hair and deep, auburn eyes. He was dressed in a black robe lined with black silk, and from his back rose two huge black feathered wings. Looking down his nose at Neville, he smiled wickedly before folding his arms above his chest.

“Mister Longbottom, we've been expecting you.”

“We have?” Draco wondered out loud and ran over to Neville, helping him to his feet.Draco was evidently nervous, shielding Neville behind his back.

“How touching that you would shelter him” the eudaimon observed, speaking with a hint of sarcasm. That's when Neville saw it. There was a perimeter which had been set with protective magic, and outside, there were demons gathering. “Tell us. Why are you here, Mister Longbottom?”

Neville cleared his throat, put his wand away and dusted off his professor outfit. Now he was here, but his words were failing him.

“Allow me to Apparate him back to Hogwarts. I shall return to you immediately, Sir.” Draco attempted.

“Not a chance. This is between Longbottom and me, but you will proceed and do as you are told. Remove your clothing.”

“What did Neville do? He hasn't done anything –!” Draco wanted to know.

“ – silence!” the eudaimon commanded sternly.

Before thinking again, Neville hopped forward and said: “I wish to contest for the right to Draco's womb!”

Neville felt his throat go dry. He stared at the eudaimon, feeling his head go dizzy, but he didn't regret what he said. But he wondered if he'd said it right. Up against eudaimons, one had to be extremely specific in one's demands. Neville had learned that from Severus Snape. “For the past four years I have secretly been wishing for a child with Draco. A child of our own! I know it is a big sacrifice for you, Sir, but please consider it. Patiently, and with every fibre of our bodies, we have raised and loved yours as our own.”

Oh how ungrateful that sounded. Neville winced inside, feeling his courage failing him.

The eudaimon's eyes narrowed to slits. He didn't look pleased. Draco buried his face in his palms and sighed loudly.

“We – we are grateful to have each other, right Neville?! We don't need more than that. There's absolutely –!”

“ – no! I mean it!” Neville interrupted. Scrutinizing the eudaimon's face, he could see what was happening. To stand in front of such an entity which invoked a human's true feelings, his true self, was a test of integrity and courage. Right now, the eudaimon was reading his mind to see if Neville really meant what he said. As with all battles against demons and angels, faith was one's strongest weapon. Did Neville believe in his love with Draco? Did he truly believe in their marriage? Was he ready to sacrifice all for Malfoy? Was there any doubt concerning their relationship? The eudaimon looked at him meaningfully, scouring through Neville's mind in search for a hint of waver in his faith. Draco looked as if he was about to cry. He knew all too well the silent battle which raged between two wills – Neville's and the eudaimon's. His master read people like open books, making them admit to themselves their crimes. All around them, darkness crept into the corners, despite the sun being at its strongest in the sky. They both watched as the eudaimon reached out and pointed one index finger at Neville. Draco wanted to leap forward and stop it all. Neville held his breath. He felt his skin beginning to tingle, from his fingertips it spread all over his body.

“Courage is a virtue, Mister Longbottom.”

Neville didn't hesitate. He began to undress resolutely, turning his head to Draco. The blonde was looking perplexed, as if he wasn't quite getting what was happening.

“Brace yourself, professor Malfoy!” Neville said with fierce determination in his voice.

“What?!”

“I just won.”

Neville leapt forward and caught Draco in his arms, sealing his lips unto the blonde's. Gasping for air, Draco tumbled backwards and landed on his back onto soft mash. The green canopy of the forest swayed over his head, and he began to realise that this was it. This was something he hadn't dared to hope for, and something he was far from prepared for. But for Neville, he would do anything. Neville was already undressed down to his waist. He had a fervent expression on his face, and he was focused and determined. Balancing his weight on his arms, he lay down on his elbows and kissed Draco again and again.

“Is he …? He's still here …!” Draco whispered, pointing at the eudaimon, wondering if the entity had decided on staying. And rightly so, the eudaimon wandered a little, finding himself a nice spot from which he could view the whole thing. Draco winced from shame. He watched the eudaimon fold his arms above his chest and put on an amused grin. Neville was paying absolutely no attention to Draco's master. Yes, he admitted, it felt bad having to ask permission to fuck his own husband, but this wasn't just any master. He peeled off Draco's trousers and underwear to reveal a half-erection protruding from a gentle forest of blonde pubic hairs. Malfoys weren't particularly hairy. Anywhere. “Oh Neville …!” Draco whispered as a shudder rippled through his body. Neville's erection was growing fast, and Draco could feel its persisting nudge against his opening. Draco received Neville's multitude of kisses, feeling grateful for all of this attention. How lucky a man he was to have such a determined and fierce lover who was so complete in everything he did. Neville hesitated for a moment, before he reached out to a small plant standing just some feet from Draco's head. Picking the bud, he squeezed it between his fingers.

“Would you look at that! Demon's Bite” Neville said, and rubbed the bud between his fingers until it disintegrated, leaving a sticky greenish substance on Neville's fingers. “Nature's own lubrication” he said, and reached down to coat his erection. Demon's Bite was such that its juice was thick and oily, leaving a warming sensation when in contact with skin. Often used in combination with other medicinal herbs, the Demon's Bite had a good effect on everything from frost bites to sprained ankles. It tickled his erection at first, then came the tingling sensation followed by heat. Once the heat passed, Neville was left with an aching erection which yearned to be soothed inside a slick, warm place. Longbottom locked gazes with Draco when he penetrated. He wanted it to be their moment. This was a different place, Neville thought to himself as he commenced to inch himself into that otherwise forbidden place. This was a vast and moist grotto compared to Draco's other entrance, which was tight and smooth. But there was no wonder, Neville thought. Many a demon child had paved its way through this canal. It was sort of a Pearl Gate for demons and eudaimons, a way out into the light. For a moment, Neville felt like he was invading someone else's turf, but really, now was not the time to have doubts. He began to thrust, keeping his gaze locked at Draco's blue-grey orbs. They almost had the same eye-colour, though Neville's were considerably darker and with a shade of green. He could lay like this for hours just staring into those beautiful eyes of the blonde. Picking up a suitable pace, Neville began to thrust more strongly. Draco was quiet, seemingly at peace and in no pain. It was – in many ways – their first time. Until now, lovemaking had been fun and uncommitted. This – this was the beginning of a child – and a whole new era in their lives. Neville's in particular. He watched as Draco's cheeks adopted a slight red. It was a tell tale sign that Draco was getting ever so enticed. They were naked now. Not a single stitch left on their body. The mash beneath their bodies was comfortably dry and warm, and the sun bathed the treetops in a warm yellow light. Draco loved doing it in the wild. He broke eyecontact, arched his neck and back , bucking his hips against Neville. The motion shot an arrow of lust through Neville who responded by thrusting harder and deeper. Draco bucked and ground his hips, seizing Neville's backside with both hands and compelling him to go deeper. He curled his legs around Neville's waist, giving Neville the impression that the blonde would rather have the whole of him on the inside if he only could.

“Oh please Neville!” Draco moaned and seized his face, cupping his cheeks, “please come deeper into me!” he begged, looking into Neville's eyes.

“I'm working on it” Neville breathed hard. The feeling of having Draco's arms and legs wrapped about him, was only adding to the wonderful sensation he already had. Draco was so slick, he was positively dripping with moist! It was like dipping into a well of pleasure. The blonde's hands were all over Neville, feeling and stroking every patch of skin.

“Youh're lah – late for class” Draco mumbled.

“Screw the class!” Neville growled in response and put everything into thrusting harder and deeper. He could feel the tension building, and the way he worked, it would only lead to one thing.

“Please, oh please oh please …!” Draco begged, staring intently into Neville's face. He didn't quite know what he was begging for, but at this moment his brains had turned to porridge and his train of thought kept derailing. Suddenly, the orgasm washed over Neville. He bent down, softened his pace, kissed his husband and focused on every push. There was an urgent need to thrust as much sperm as he possibly could, into the holiest of holy chambers inside Draco. And Neville felt just how badly he wanted this child with Draco.

Please, be twins. Be triplets. Be many!

This could be the only chance he would ever get to breed with Draco Malfoy. He kept thrusting softly long after the orgasm had passed. Draco was soft, willing and his whole body moved in time with Neville's, ushering him to stay inside, to dig himself deeper into his flesh. “I love you” Neville told his husband softly. It wasn't like it was the first time he'd ever used those words. But today they held a deep meaning, and their meaning would forever change.

The fourth years at Hogwarts waited patiently for their professor. He was ten minutes late, and a sigh of disappointment rippled through the crowd as he rushed in through the door, arms stacked with books. Damn. So close to getting a period off. The students found their seats dejectedly and opened their books. Professor Longbottom took a moment to regain his breath. Then he flicked his wand, and a group of pots which had been lined up on a table against the left side of the wall in the classroom, began to drift into the room and settle on every desk. The professor seemed highly distracted, and the lecture wasn't making any sense. After about fifteen minutes came professor Malfoy. He settled at the back of the classroom, folded his arms above his chest and assumed a relaxed position. Like he intended to stay. The students failed to see the close eye-contact between the two. But professor Longbottom seemed to be gathering his thoughts and focus on the lecture, obviously calming down. Oblivious to the miracle which had happened between the two in the depths of the forest, they commenced with the task at hand.