What I Wanted

Hate to Love

Neville Longbottom x Zacharias Smith

The first time he'd kissed Zacharias Smith, it'd been out of anger. He'd been making yet another dig at Harry, or Hermione, Neville didn't care to remember whom. The rush of anger had overwhelmed him, and he'd slammed his lips down on the smaller boy's in a bruising kiss, fingers knotting unnecessarily tightly in Smith's golden hair, revelling in the small gasp of pain that escaped his lips. When they'd separated, Smith's cerulean blue eyes glinted with defiance, and some veiled emotion that caused stirrings in his stomach.

He'd wanted to break him. Zacharias and his caustic tongue made it an easy desire to fuel, and the monthly rendezvouses became more and more frequent. Neville'd taken wicked pleasure in decorating the smooth pale neck with dozens of bruises, felt triumph as he watched the sharp tongued boy blush as he attempted to explain them away whenever he'd forgotten a glamour. The angry gleam never faltered, and he'd never kissed him again.

Slowly, he noticed that Zacharias's bitter tongue stole all the attention away from his delectable mouth. The Hufflepuff had beautiful features: soft, golden hair, bright blue eyes, but his sharp defences prevented anyone from appreciating his face. Neville found his mouth intriguing; those delicious, petal-soft lips could quirk into a wry smile with him, and yet, it spent most of its time forming acidic comments.

He had broken the Hufflepuff. As he'd rose from the bed to leave the boy one night, he'd been genuinely surprised to see tears stream down the normally cold face. Zach had turned his face away, offering no explanation, but Neville'd felt a surge of something for the boy. Releasing the tie he'd been attempting to knot, he'd sat himself down on the bed, carefully peeling Zach's hands away from his face. The second time he kissed Zacharias Smith, it'd been out of affection. It'd been a slow, gentle kiss, and he'd brushed the tears off the Hufflepuff's face. Zach had given him a true smile in return, and Neville'd felt his heart stop at how beautiful Zacharias Smith had looked.

The third time he'd kissed Zacharias Smith, it'd been out of love. Ginny had been treating the blond to a rather harsh diatribe of how no one'd ever care for him, and Neville had seen the trace of hurt under his bored demeanour. Abandoning all rational thought, he'd strode up to the two and slotted his lips against Zach's, ignoring Ginny's horror and the blond's own gasp of surprise. The shock of the onlookers had been even more worth it when he saw the hesitant smile.

The last time he'd kissed Zacharias Smith, it'd been a goodbye. He'd been assigned to track down rogue Death Eaters, and one had gotten a lucky curse in. Zach had been crying; cerulean eyes glassy with tears, and teeth worrying at his delicious bottom lip. Neville'd raised one hand with an effort, brushed off the tears with his thumb. Zach had caught his hand, eyes fluttering shut. When he opened them, they were dry, and he'd pressed a hard desperate kiss to Neville's mouth. Neville'd responded with all the fire in his dying veins, and his last thought was that this'd been the first time Zach had initiated the kiss.