Summary: AU. OC: Graces Malfoy, Draco's twin sister. Neville, with his usual bad luck, ends up partners with Graces Malfoy for Herbology, just after landing her father in Azkaban, after the Ministry ordeal. Will this partnership prove to be as awful as it sounds? 6th year. Rated M for sexual content.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Graces Malfoy, who is my own. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or settings contained within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.
Rated M for sexual content and language
Author's note: Special thanks to my beta AurthurDent2!
Chapter 2
Neville Longbottom knew he was starting to obsess over Graces Malfoy, but he couldn't seem to stop. Ever since their first conversation, he found himself wanting to know the girl, that up until this point, he had deemed as a, heartless, domineering, future death eater. Neville spent weeks contemplating the riddle that was Graces Malfoy. He watched her, with her friends in the corridors, smirking at what was being said. His eyes wandered to her in the great hall, sitting with her brother eating her meals delicately. And much to the dismay of his already bad enough potions grade, he had become mesmerized with her in potions class too. Her face tranquil as she read the directions, her hands easily moving about her desk as if without thought: cutting this, stirring that, and always at the end producing a perfect brew. She was quite amazing. Neville didn't think any person could work with such ease. He was surprised that, up until that point, he had never noticed that Graces was a very advanced witch. Her talents just were not recognized as much as Hermione's, she was smart, definitely, but it was just different. She was quiet and didn't answer questions in class often, but when she did, she answered them efficiently and always had another tidbit of information to add. Her eyes that he had always considered so cold, would light up and gleam whenever she answered a question, was working on a project, or learned a new bit of information that she found interesting.
The only class she seemed to struggle in was Herbology, and as much as she struggled, the sandy haired boy had the impression that she was enjoying herself all the same. It was like she had a switch, anytime she got near a plant she was useless. Plants to Graces Malfoy were like potions to Neville Longbottom. No matter how hard she tried, she always seemed to mess something up, causing the plant to wilt away or attack her. Even if she followed all the instructions explicitly, double and triple checking, the plants seemed to not want to cooperate with her. It was frustrating for both students, considering their grades were more heavily weighed on the practical aspect of the class.
Neville, for the past few weeks, had worked diligently alongside Graces in the greenhouse. She clearly did her reading, she understood the properties of each plant, what they needed to survive, and she even understood the Latin in the names. She also knew a decent amount of the history associated with most plants they studied. Neville silently wished she was more talkative so they could have discussions on herbology while they worked, but her callous demeanor towards him let him know that conversation wasn't welcome. Writing their paper together was the only time she really spoke, and even then it wasn't really a discussion. They would tell each other what information to add or ask that something be re-worded here or there. Yet, despite her attitude towards him, he was surprisingly at ease in her company.
It was now Saturday and Neville was sitting in the Great Hall with Dean and Seamus. Dean was explaining football to the fire prone Irish boy, while Neville listened absently. Football just seemed like a boring muggle sport in comparison to quidditch. Besides, Neville had other things on his mind; he was determined to not look over at the Slytherin table today. He had decided that he had gone beyond just being curious about the girl, to actually turning a bit creepy. He now knew how she liked her tea, that she had a major sweet tooth, and that she preferred to read during her morning breakfast, among other little tidbits about her that he'd picked up. He noticed that while Pansy and the other Slytherin girls liked to link arms while walking in the corridors, Graces preferred to walk alone. Actually, now that he thought of it, Neville realised that she didn't seem to like to be touched at all. It was as though she had an invisible bubble around her, and apparently it was well known in the Slytherin house that she enjoyed her space. This is the reason that when she did finally come in the Great hall for breakfast, with her brother's arm comfortingly around her, he no longer was able to keep his resolve not to look at her.
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"It's going to be okay Graces," Draco murmured quietly as they sat down for breakfast. He debated keeping his arm around his sister's shoulder to continue comforting her, but decided that he didn't want to be like the Weasley's and baby her like the way they all did Ginny. He did, however, let her sit close enough to him so that their arms were touching. "I bet Longbottom will know exactly what to do."
"I don't want to rely on Longbottom," Graces whined huffily playing with her porridge.
"It is embarrassing isn't it? Needing Neville Longbottom for help? Sounds dreadful," Draco said teasingly as he buttered his toast.
"You are not making me feel better, Draco."
"I'm sorry, but it will be resolved. Just go talk to the dimwit before he leaves the hall and let him know you need his help."
"He's going to think I'm daft…"
"Nooo," Draco corrected, "he is going to think you are overreacting to a tiny spot on a plant."
"I am not overreacting! It could very well be the 'black death' with my luck; it's not uncommon for Hellebores to get it." Graces had now thrown her spoon down into her bowl and was breathing so heavy her nostrils flared with each intake of air. Draco took a moment to look around the Slytherin table and thanked the gods that everyone was still sleeping in. It wouldn't do to show weakness at such a crucial time. After making sure no one had noticed his sister's momentary lapse, he gently placing his hand on his sister's knee.
"Calm down," he murmured under his breath, "Finish your breakfast and walk over to the Gryffindor table. You are a Malfoy, we don't lose our composure in the face of the Dark Lord, and you certainly don't lose it over a silly plant."
The blonde girl blushed and nodded her head. Her brother was right, she was being irrational. She would just go over to Longbottom and ask him to look at the plant with her. He was, after all, her partner, and he had just as much riding on their plant as she did. It was in his best interest to look at the plant. It was her weekend to tend to it, but surely he wouldn't mind taking a quick look in case there was, in fact, a disease riddling their Hellebores. She looked up to make sure that he was still in the Great Hall, and frowned when she saw that he was watching her. He quickly looked away and then began to pack his things hurriedly, much to Graces panic.
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Neville was so embarrassed; he had no idea how long Graces had noticed his gaze before he realized she was looking directly back at him. He just wanted to get out of the Great Hall as fast as he possibly could. He thought the idea of spending the rest of the afternoon in his dorm working on his potions essay was a thousand times better than being in the same room as Graces Malfoy after she had noticed him gawking at her.
He had just made it out the doors and was about to head up the main steps, when he heard a familiar voice call out from behind him.
"Longbottom! Wait!"
Neville nervously turned around to face Graces. He was sure the blonde was going to call him out on staring at her, demand to know why. She seemed to never want to talk with him unless it had to do with class or unless she felt the need to confront him about something, like the first day. However, what he saw made him furrow his brow in surprise. When he looked at Graces she didn't seem angry, she seemed flustered and embarrassed.
"I... I think we have a problem."
"A problem?" Neville asked, mortified when his voice faltered and cracked with the question. Luckily, Graces didn't seem to notice.
She stood there for a few moments, worrying her lip, a few stairs under the Gryffindor, before continuing, "I know it's my weekend to take care of our project and, well, I'm not trying to get out of that…but I noticed something on a few of our Hellebores and I think it's a disease."
"Can you describe what you noticed?" the sandy haired boy asked, crossing his arms and gazing studiously at the flustered blonde.
"Uh yes," Graces stammered taken aback by Neville's sudden shift in confidence, "I think I am noticing some browning on healthy tissue; I am worried that it may be the Black Death. That could prove fatal to our plants and I thought that maybe the ventilation in the environment might be to blame."
"How much browning are we talking about? Some browning is normal on older leaves; it's just part of the life cycle."
"Well… that's where I umm… there really isn't much, but I just would feel more comfortable if you wouldn't mind taking a quick look."
Neville nodded and began walking down the stairs and heading to the Greenhouse with Graces by his side. When they entered the Greenhouse, Neville noticed that the blonde seemed to have recollected herself.
He spent a few minutes examining the plant and checking the ventilation in the area around their project. After awhile he decided there was nothing to be worried about.
"Everything seems to be fine, there is slight browning on healthy tissue as you said, however, the area is so small it really can't be problematic. If the browning begins to spread more, and quickly, we can worry, but as of right now I don't see any reason for us to charm I put on the plant prevents aphids from getting on it and carrying lethal viruses, like the Black Death, over to it."
Neville watched as Graces fidgeted with her hands, she obviously wanted to say something more, but was holding herself back. He wasn't sure if he should press her to go ahead and speak freely or wait. In the end she just nodded, much to his disappointment.
"Malfoy, if you don't believe that my diagnosis is right you can tell me. I won't be offended, just tell me why you think I'm wrong and we can talk about it."
Graces seemed hesitant, but finally nodded. "I... I'm sort of a jinx when it comes to plants. I can do everything right and they just seem to die... attack me, or on prominent occasion do both. Pansy was a great partner because she usually took care of the plants with me. I never had to do it alone and that usually helped the plants and thus our grade. I honestly mostly watched and did the minimal interaction with them as possible. Of course I wrote most of the papers to make up for it, I would never not pull my own weight. Anyways, my point is that plants and I do not mix well. I know that there is no real reason for me to feel like our plant is dying, but based on my history with plants, I sound mad, but it's how it is. You haven't been partners with me long enough to know. You and your friends are right I am absolutely awful at herbology, but my father did NOT buy my way into this class. I earned my way in. Despite my handicap with plants I am very knowledgeable, and I realize and am sorry that I have taken up your Saturday morning, but I don't think I can take care of a plant with no supervision for a whole weekend. I will gladly work with you in watering and caring for it if you give me times to meet you, but, I think, if you leave me to do it alone we will both fail this course."
If Hannah or Hermione would have been standing before him, he would have laughed at this little rant and told them they were overreacting. He would have told them that getting this worked up over some slightly browning leaves was ridiculous, and insisted they go up to the castle and get some much needed rest. He was glad that Graces at least was not crying like some girls would be with this; she just seemed embarrassed, flustered, and frustrated all at once. It was almost endearing to see her being so human. It was hard to believe this was the same frigid girl he had been around for the past six years.
"Malfoy," Neville did his best to try and hide his amusement from the worked up blond, "I only suggested that we work separately because I thought you would prefer it. I didn't think you wanted to work in such close proximity with me for more than you were required to. I honestly was planning on checking on the plants this weekend anyways. After all, I am always in here helping Professor Sprout and working on my own projects. I don't mind meeting with you over the weekend to tend to our project."
"You don't mind. Really?" Graces asked dubiously.
"No, not at all," Neville said, "and also, I know you are knowledgeable about plants and I never thought your father bought your way in this class." He gave her a small, but genuine smile.
The Slytherin girl just stared at the boy in front of her, looking for signs of deceit, before giving a quick nod and returning back to her original frosty demeanor. Neville took that as his cue to take leave and began walking out of the greenhouse.
"I'll come by after lunch to check on the spots!" he called over his shoulder hoping that would at least sooth some of the girl's nerves.
She didn't answer back; he supposed a comment wasn't really necessary, he was walking away. He couldn't help leaving feeling a little happy about his encounter with her. He felt like he just saw a small glimpse of what she was like under that aristocratic, pure blood mask, of hers. She seemed so much more human to him. He realized that was a silly thing to think, but he was sure others must have felt the same about her. She seemed so emotionless most of the time, even when she was angry her face remained cold and her eyes reserved, which can actually be terribly frightening. Last year, he would have thought Graces Malfoy incapable of becoming flustered, which was something reserved for people like him who were already uncomfortable in their own skin, not people like Graces Malfoy, who walked through a crowded noisy hall and somehow had the ability to, without saying a word, part the sea of people, and walk through completely untouched.
The rest of Neville's afternoon seemed boring in comparison to this morning. He played a few games of exploding snaps with Harry and Ron, worked on a potions essay with a, thankfully, very patient Hermione and then before he knew it, it was time for lunch.
Neville, for the first time in weeks, did not stare over at the Slytherin table at Graces, because Graces was not there for him to stare at. He wondered where she could possibly be. Draco and all the other Slytherins were accounted for, so she was must have been alone. Neville couldn't think of a single person from another house she would be with.
"Something the matter Nev?" Ginny asked, helping herself to the plate of sandwiches in front of her.
"No, why?"
"You just seem distracted is all," Ginny shrugged.
"Yeah, come to think of it you were really distracted when we were working on your essay," Hermione chimed in placing her charms book down on the table, "It was as if you weren't listening to me at all, at some points. You were worse than Ron and Harry on a quidditch day. Usually I don't have to repeat myself to you."
Neville blushed and apologized to Hermione for not being as attentive. He really did appreciate that she helped him with potions and felt badly that he had not been paying close enough attention. Hermione just waved her hand, like the apology was completely unnecessary, before narrowing her eyes and demanding to know what was distracting him.
Neville was not about to tell Ginny or Hermione what was really going on in his head so he decided to tell them half the truth instead. "Well... You see Malfoy-"
"Of course it would be a Malfoy! What did that git do now?" Ginny asked affronted.
"No... Not Draco, and-"
"Is Graces Malfoy giving you problems Nev?" Hermione asked concerned, "Because if that is so, I am sure Professor Sprout would let you switch partners or work alone. You are her favorite."
"Graces Malfoy has not done a single thing," Neville defended, looking over at his friends imploringly for them to believe him, "She just told me this morning that she is worried about some browning on our plants. I checked it and didn't see anything to worry about, but I guess I just keep thinking about it."
"I'm sure even if there was something wrong you could handle it, Neville," Hermione said matter of factly, "If this was a potion you were brewing I would understand your apprehension, but you are quite the genius when it comes to herbology."
Neville blushed bashfully at the compliment, before awkwardly excusing himself from the table. He headed over to the Greenhouse to check on the plants, wondering if Malfoy would be meeting him there. As he walked to the back, where their plant was, he was surprised to see that not only was she there, it looked as though she never left.
She was sitting at a small desk with parchment and books from her other classes sprawled before her and tea pot along with cooling a cup of tea set to the side. The plants were right at her desk, where she could look up at them whenever she wanted. She was currently reading a chapter for their History of Magic class that they would not be covering for another week. She didn't seem to notice his presence though, she just continued to read, wisps of her platinum hair falling delicately as she sucked on her sugar quill, pausing once in awhile to make a quick note here or there on a piece of parchment. She looked so lovely and peaceful he forgot for a moment who exactly she was; it was hard to think of this angelic creature, that had a soft expression on her face, as her eyes danced across text, as the same stony faced girl he saw in the corridors.
And then, as though she sensed that she was no longer alone, she looked up and those soft eyes and sweet face were replaced at once with cold ones and a rigid, domineering mask. She sat there for a moment, not moving from her seat, still slightly leaning on the desk, before slowly bringing herself upright.
"Do you always stare Longbottom?" she sneered, "I suppose if I was always in the company of Gryffindors, I would forget manners as well."
Neville pinked slightly before stumbling through an apology, which Graces just rolled her eyes at and ignored.
"The browning has not spread, you were correct when you said it was nothing."
Neville nodded awkwardly, "Have... have you been here all day?"
"The day is not over, so clearly not," Graces replied icily, "I have finished our paper on the medicinal uses of Hellebore. If you would like, you can review it and add anything you wish, but I believe it is more than sufficient."
Neville frowned, "I would have helped you write that."
The blonde girl in front of him just shrugged and handed him the parchment. Neville looked down at the elegantly penned script and couldn't think of anything to add. He stood there reading it for a few minutes before sighing and handing it back.
"I really wish you wouldn't have done all of the work. I don't even feel right putting my name on this now."
"Gryffindor nobility," Graces scoffed as she looked back down at her book.
Neville knew that he had been dismissed, but couldn't seem to leave. He was angry that she had done that whole paper. They were supposed to be partners in this assignment, he could have easily wrote the whole paper himself as well, but hadn't so that she could be involved. They were now already doing the active work with the plant together. He felt useless and this was the one class he had where he was far from.
"I like doing well in this class. I like that for one class I am not dimwitted, helpless Neville Longbottom that everyone refers to as barely a wizard. I enjoy getting my paper back with good marks when I barely had to try to write it and working in the practical aspect of the class with no help from Hermione. And you... you, ugh."
"I what?" Graces asked coldly, now staring at the boy in front of her shutting her book.
Neville faltered from his rant at the frosty look he was getting. "Nothing... Never mind."
"Come come Longbottom, it would appear that you have developed a spine, and I am very interested in how you were going to finish that sentence."
"You took that away from me!" Neville blurted out unable to stop himself. He felt like a child throwing a temper tantrum and looked away in embarrassment, before quickly leaving the greenhouse.
Neville lay staring up at his the ceiling from his bed. He had been laying there for hours upon hours, brooding. He didn't even bother to go to dinner, he was still so angry. So now there he was, in the middle of the night, frustrated over Graces Malfoy. He had, for weeks, been trying to find redeeming qualities in a girl, that seemed to have none. He felt so naïve. Maybe he just saw what he wanted to see in her. It wasn't like she was ever kind or gentle. It's because she is pretty. I must have just given her the halo effect; I probably just didn't want to think that such a beauty could turn into ugly when she opens her mouth. Now he just felt stupid and vain. He hated how cutting her words were to him. If anything, they felt more hurtful than the nastier things Draco would say and do to him. It wasn't like the ways the others would call him spineless and taunt him, it was different. She didn't use her words to hurt him, instead she would say much less meaningful words, she could really be saying anything, but say it in such a way that every word she delivered cut, like a real pain. The chilling look in her eyes was enough to make anyone squirm, to say the least.
He began to feel restless. He was tired, but unable to find sleep, and listening to the peaceful snores from the rest of his dorm mates was just making him feel more disgruntled, when usually he would've found it to be soothing. He finally decided to just go to the greenhouse; he would have spent the day in there working with plants if he didn't think Graces was going to stay there all day. He loved working with plants, it was relaxing, in a way. It always seemed to calm him down, let him think more clearly. The whole reason why he never brooded was because he usually had the greenhouse as an outlet. It was well past curfew, but he felt it would be worth a detention if he could just make it there. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were always about the castle past curfew and they never seemed to have trouble; he just prayed that some of their luck had rubbed off on him.
Neville breathed in a sigh of relief when he made it past Mrs. Norris and into the greenhouse. He decided it best not to turn on any lights; the moon was out tonight and there was plenty of light for him to work with. He started walking over to the back of the room to check on his plant and almost jumped out of his skin to find someone was already there.
"Hullo Longbottom," Graces giggled sitting on a blanket with a bottle of firewhisky clutched in her hands.
"Malfoy?! WH-what are you doing here?" he whispered urgently.
"Drinking," Graces said simply taking another swig from the bottle and grimacing at the burning strength.
"I can see that," he said annoyed, but then asked astonished, "are...are you drunk?"
"Hmmmm I think I am. Just a little bit though. Would you care for some?" Graces asked politely, holding the bottle up.
"Uh..."
"Oh come now, Longbottom. I do hate drinking alone," she insisted, reminding Neville of Hermione when she wanted company in the library.
"Wouldn't you rather drink with... well... um, your friends?"
Graces just laughed melodically. "Well I didn't want to drink with Pansy because whenever I do, she just starts going on and on about how sexy Draco is and how she would give her whole vault in Gringotts to have just one night with him," Graces wrinkled her nose and cringed, "Not really something a sister wants to hear. I love drinking with Blaize, you know Zambini, but unfortunately for me, he turned in early tonight. And, oh, I just can't stand drinking with the other girls in my house; they can't hold their liquor at all. Millicent doesn't fancy drinking. She doesn't like not being in control, you see. It's a Slytherin thing. None of us drink often. I can't drink with the other boys in my house because they will just try to get in my knickers, but you won't will you Longbottom?" Graces winked, "It's all against your Gryffindor nobility right? Can't take advantage of intoxicated girls. I bet you still wouldn't do it even if you had one right there in your bed begging you to take her would you?" Her words were beginning to slur and she hiccuped.
Neville blushed and decided to ignore the question. "What about your brother?"
Graces smile faltered for a moment and took a large swig of the amber liquid she was holding. "Draco is the reason I am drinking," she said sadly looking down into the bottle.
Neville could never fully understand why he did it, maybe it was because he wanted to see more of smiling happy Graces Malfoy, or maybe it was because he couldn't stand how small she looked, sitting on the ground sadly, at the mention of her brother, but he sat down next to her and took the bottle in his hands and took a slow and deliberate swig. The fire whisky burned going down his throat and he coughed and sputtered, but when he looked up, Graces was smiling radiantly at him and he felt his heart flutter and he knew it wasn't the whisky's doing.
"See Longbottom, the world didn't end because you had a drink with a Malfoy," she said nudging her shoulder into him playfully.
"Who would have thought Malfoys made such happy drunks," Neville teased.
"Well," Graces whispered excitedly "it is one of our best kept family secrets."
"Is it now?" Neville whispered back continuing the play.
"Yes, you should be much honored that I want to drink with you Mr. Longbottom," Graces laughed taking another swig.
Neville chuckled at that statement before asking playfully, "And how exactly was I deemed so worthy of such a privilege?"
Graces shrugged, "I like you well enough to enjoy your company, even if you are a blood traitor."
Neville's eyebrows about shot up to his hairline at that statement, "You enjoy my company? You must be more drunk than I thought."
Graces just laughed at the boy's expression, "I am probably more drunk than you thought, but I do enjoy your company. I'm secretly very happy that we're partners in herbology, at first I was glad because you are a genius. When it comes to the practical part of the subject and I am horrid, unlike you, but I must admit, you have grown on me Longbottom."
"Well," Neville began astonished, "I would have never guessed that. You sure don't act like you like me."
"Come on, Longbottom! I can't very well act like I enjoy your company can I? You still are a blood traitor and a Gryffindor. And in case you haven't noticed, I am not about wearing my emotions on my sleeve, buuuuut I like you. You are able to hold an intelligent conversation and aren't pushy or too talkative…. And well… I appreciate that you… cared? … yes, cared that you hurt my feelings."
"So, I did hurt your feelings?" Neville asked quietly.
Graces smiled softly, "Well despite the rumors, I am not made out of stone."
"I...I am sorry for that."
Graces waved her hands dismissively, "Nothing I haven't heard before. I'm a Slytherin, we're a tough house. No one likes us," She then became quiet for a moment, "I'm sorry for earlier by the way. I had done the paper to thank you, I didn't think about how much you liked working on papers."
"To thank me? For what?"
Graces blushed a pretty shade of pink. "You know for helping me with the plant, being willing to deal with me on your weekend. I know I was being rather … well I wasn't behaving as a Malfoy should."
Neville smiled, he hadn't thought that Graces had done the assignment to thank him.
"Longbottom, you really need to drink more, being drunk alone isn't nearly as fun. And I am very curious as to what kind of drunk you are."
Neville took a few generous swigs at the blonde's command, before handing the bottle back.
"I have no clue what kind of drunk I am," the sandy haired boy stated, leaning back on a sack of soil, "I've never been drunk before."
"You're kidding," Graces said skeptically, "I hear you Gryffindors have giant parties every time you beat us at a quidditch match."
"Yes, but I don't get sloshed at them."
"Why?"
"I don't know... I don't want to embarrass myself anymore than I already do on a regular basis."
Graces giggled at his confession. "I suppose that makes sense."
"Does Slytherin have parties together?"
"Not really. None of us are usually willing to let our guard down in front of the whole house like that. We did drink all of us together last year when you noble lot went to the Ministry, but… we weren't drinking to have a party. It definitely was not fun like parties should be. We just... we were all so worried you know? Scared for our parents and all. Say what you will about the Slytherin house, but when it counts we stand together. We just drank and waited for news. We even let the first years drink, figured they should be allowed to drown their worries as well. Snape was great; he came in and ignored the bottles delivered the news and left. We all made makeshift beds and just slept together in a great mass in the middle of the floor. Then when morning came, everyone was tactful enough to pretend nothing had happened."
Neville sat silently, he had never considered what it was like for the children of death eaters. He imagined first years crying curled up in older years arms as the older ones tried to look strong, while, in reality, they were just as scared, just as worried, and hurting just as much. He wondered if Graces held any frightened children, she was a prefect after all, or if she and Draco curled up in a corner and sought comfort in one another. Maybe it was a combination of both. He knew what he did in the ministry was the right thing; he didn't regret putting her father in jail and fighting him, her aunt, and the other death eaters, but he did feel a new found pity for the children of those individuals. He wondered how Graces reacted when Snape told her and Draco that their father was going to Azkaban; how she felt going home for the summer and not having him there.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"Don't apologize for things that are not your fault, Longbottom, it's beneath you. You did what you thought was right and my father did the same. He got caught and a jury sentenced him; the only thing you did was fight him in the Ministry where he ambushed you."
"Your brother doesn't seem to feel that way."
"Draco is... dealing with things that … well… Draco is under a lot of pressure at the moment. And… well he blames you lot..." Graces was quiet for awhile taking slow sips from the bottle clearly lost in some memory. "The Dark Lord punished him for our father's failure."
Neville stared at Graces, horrified by her last statement. He couldn't even fully process what that meant. "Why are you telling me this?"
Graces looked up with her sad eyes that had begun to glisten with unwept tears. "I don't know. Maybe because I am drunk, scared, and have no one I really can tell. Or maybe it's because you have kind eyes and I know you won't tell anyone no matter what. I... I don't know, but I know I want to forget all of that right now. So please just drink and help me forget."
Neville did as he was told and racked his mind for a change of subject. A way to get the vibrant girl he had witnessed back.
"Why are you taking herbology? No offense, but you don't strike me as the gardening type."
"No offense taken at all. I have to take this class in order to get into a healer program."
"I didn't know you wanted to be a healer."
Graces giggled, "Well of course you wouldn't, how would you?"
"Healer Malfoy… It does have a ring to it."
"Doesn't it!? I've wanted to be a healer ever since I can remember, father doesn't want me to be, he would rather me and Draco took over the family business together. He thinks it is below me."
Neville laughed at that statement. "Below you? My gran would die of joy if I went home and told her I was going to be a healer or an auror. She isn't big on me being a herbologist."
"Really?" The blonde asked astonished, "You could make a good living being a herbologist. Start a business with exotic plants and sell them to medicinal potions companies. You're very good, better than Professor Sprout; you could easily have a successful business and become a wealthy man."
"If there was any doubt in my mind as to why you were sorted into Slytherin, you just obliviated it Miss. Malfoy. I never even thought of having my very own business."
"Well you should, Longbottom. You know if you adopt any Slytherin ideals, it should be our ambition," she looked up at Neville critically for a few moments before continuing, "or maybe it should be our confidence and ability to not jump into a dangerous situation without a plan."
"Plans? Ha! Who needs plans? We mighty Gryffindors don't need such things! Why rely on a plan, when you can just continue to rely on miracles?" Neville joked, warmly playing off his house's stereotype.
Graces rolled her eyes. "Gryffindors, brave to the point of stupidity. You know your miracles will run out eventually and then where will you be? Dead."
Neville took another swig, ignoring that his mind already felt cloudy as it was, and leaned closer to the girl sitting next to him. "Will you cry at my funeral Miss Malfoy?"
Graces scoffed and pushed him away playfully, "Why would I cry at a blood traitor's funeral? And why in the name of Merlin would I be attending one in the first place?"
"Ah, but you already admitted that you enjoyed my company, despite the fact that I am a blood traitor," Neville teased passing the bottle over.
Graces ignored him and just downed more of the bottle. "I'm drunk. I can't be held responsible for what I say," she finally said offhandedly, as Neville stared at her in amusement, "Stop smirking Longbottom it doesn't suit you. Gryffindors don't smirk."
"Yes well, Gryffindors also do not get sloshed with Slytherins, but that didn't stop me."
Graces giggled and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I bet I can name some of your precious Gryffindor boys that wouldn't mind drinking with me."
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that he was a hot blooded teenage boy, but the Neville looked at the girl next to him and couldn't help but see that she was breathtaking. Graces Malfoy was a stunningly beautiful girl there was no denying that, and Neville was not dim enough to have not noticed that fact before this impromptu meeting. She had seductively, full pink lips that any man would have loved to devour passionately in dark corners of the castle. Long, waist length golden hair, so light it was practically white, and was purer than sunlight, as it framed around a delicate collarbone. She had figure that, even covered under a school uniform, couldn't hide its perfection. Yet, even with all that, there were no words in the world to describe how radiantly beautiful she was when she was smiling.
Neville leaned over so that his lips were mere inches away from the blonde's, "Who said I minded?"
And before she could retort, he brought his lips down onto hers and was surprised when her lips parted, immediately, and she pulled him in closer.
Author's notes: Next chapter is rated M! So fair warning! Also please comment and review!