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.

Author's note: A very special thanks to my amazing/brilliant betas ArthurDent2 and Denarii! Denarii was kind enough to offer to become a second beta for me. And ArthurDent2, as always, has been my solid rock through this process encouraging me and even at times adding her own flair ;)

Also thanks to my readers Phoenix, BlueRose22, katastrophex3, and two guests for their reviews! I really appreciated it!

Chapter Five

Neville was trying very hard to not be rude as Hermione and Hannah talked to him about the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend, but despite his best efforts he couldn't keep himself from looking over at the greenhouse door, anxiously waiting for Graces to arrive for class. He hadn't seen the blonde since their night together; Graces hadn't even been in attendance for meals in the Great Hall. He was starting to worry that she was actually sick and not just badly hungover.

"Neville. Nev," Hannah echoed impatiently, trying to get the sandy haired boy's attention, "Neville! NEVILLE!"

"Yes, sorry... wha... what did you say?"

Hannah sighed exasperatedly, "I asked if you were going to Hogsmeade this weekend."

"Oh, uh, yes," Neville said idly, looking back at the door and smiling widely as Graces entered. Hannah and Hermione were about to ask why on earth he was smiling to see Graces Malfoy, but before they could he excused himself and walked over to the Slytherin girl.

Originally Neville thought he would embrace Graces, but after seeing her he quickly realized that would be a mistake. The Slytherin had paused for only a moment as she saw him approaching before scowling and hastily making her way over to her desk. She pointedly did not acknowledge Neville as he walked beside her. Unsure of what to do, Neville just waited until the two of them were in private before speaking.

"Are you feeling better?" The sandy haired boy asked, smiling shyly arriving at the desk, "I was starting to worry when you didn't come to dinner last night."

Graces didn't answer. She just glared coldly at Neville before continuing to get her inkwell and parchment out of her bag. Neville was steadily becoming more and more nervous the more Graces gave him the cold shoulder.

"So as you know this weekend is our first Hogsmeade trip," Neville started, his heart thrashing in his chest while the blonde next to him coolly ignored him, "and... umm I was thinking that since... well… since... yeah... I was wondering if maybe you would like to get a butterbeer or something Saturday? You know as a… well... a date." Graces stilled and looked up at Neville clearly horrified.

"You cannot be serious, Longbottom," Graces said incredulously.

Neville blushed and pushed through the feeling of rejection that was starting to boil in his stomach,"Well... umm... why not? I thought after we—"

"Ssshhhhh," Graces hissed, looking around in a panic. When she seemed satisfied that no one was paying attention to them, she turned back to Neville. "Merlin's beard, Longbottom! Are you truly that daft? Do you want someone to overhear?" she whispered harshly, "I would think the reason 'why not' is pretty crystal clear; so just forget everything that happened. It was a mistake."

"You… you think it was a mistake?" Neville asked, unable to hide his hurt.

"Of course it was a mistake," Graces hissed back, "I should have never been with you. You're a blood traitor and... and a friend of Harry Potter. I can't believe you don't see this! You are not the kind of man I am supposed to end up with."

"Right," Neville stated bitterly, "you're supposed to end up Mrs. Zabini." Graces mouth dropped as though she had been smacked, but before the blonde could retort, Professor Sprout was in front of the class giving them instructions for the day.

"We will spend the day transplanting our hellebores. Begin by cutting off the flowers with a garden pruner. Dig the plant out of the ground and use a knife to cut the root ball into two and then into four; be sure to always include part of the center root. Plant the divisions in the garden immediately unless the roots are very small. If that's the case, plant the hellebore in a pot and we will just have to use it next year," and with that Professor Sprout had dismissed them to begin their work.

Neville began working diligently on the project without a word to his partner. He didn't even want to look at the girl next to him. He had never before felt so disheartened, so rejected. He knew it was a long shot that she would actually want to go on a proper date with him, but he had hoped. She did, after all, sleep with him and he never thought in a million years that would happen. Was it really so crazy to think that she would at least have a drink with him? Apparently it was. Graces' words stung somewhere deep in his chest and he could feel his heart drop down into his stomach. I bet if I were Zabini she would get a drink with me. She would sit there and make jokes and let me actually get to know her, because then I would be the kind of man she was supposed to end up with. I'm not even asking for anything much. I'm not asking that she marry me or anything, just that she get to know me and let me get to know her. I guess she doesn't want to get to know me. I should have figured... I'm not rich, handsome, smart, or anything remotely like the sort of guys in the Slytherin house. I was a fool to believe she could want me.

"Zabini is just a friend," Neville heard Graces say quietly to his side. He made a small gesture with his head to let her know he heard her, but continued to work. "No really, he is. We've known each other since nappies... he's just a friend. I'm... I'm not...I'm not like that... I would have never, you know, with you if ... well... if I was... involved with anyone... and you know that I had never... that I had never been with anyone before... you ... you were my first."

Neville was now looking down at Graces, who was clearly uncomfortable. "You were my first too," he murmured quietly, turning back to cutting the roots of their plant, "I just thought that it would be nice to get to know you, take you out properly, and let you get to know me."

Graces rolled her eyes, "Why?"

"Well... I'd like to know the girl I uh... well... I lost my virginity to," Neville blushed, "And... uh don't you want to know me?"

"I know you fine," Graces quipped, obviously reverting back to being annoyed with Neville and wanting the subject dropped.

"Not really. Maybe if you actually knew me and I knew you we could grow to you know... fancy one another or something. I'm not that bad of a bloke you know." Graces shot him a wary look, before muttering that he was crazy. "Is it really that insane of a thought? I mean you already confessed that you liked me well enough… and..." Neville was unsure if he should make his next point, unsure because he didn't know for sure that Graces had felt the same spark with him that he had with her. "Didn't you.. feel something when… when we were together?"

Neville all but held his breath as Graces stood at their workstation, her quick silver eyes trained on the plant in front of her, her expression slowly softening. Neville knew she was remembering their night together, knew she was thinking of the comfort they were able to find in one another. He knew she was recalling how easy it was for them to just let their guard down with one another and he was certain that she was remembering the spark they felt when they kissed and the brilliance they experienced when they were intimate. And then Graces gazed up at him and like a candle in the wind, the hope that was beginning to ignite in him was instantly blown out.

"Tell me, Longbottom," Graces queried gently, her voice lacking the harshness it usually maintained, "what would come of that? Of us getting to know one another. Nothing has changed because of what we did. I am still well on my way to being a death eater. What good would come from us fancying one another? Honestly, would you want to introduce me to your gran, after what my aunt has done to her only son? Or better yet, do you think that I could ever be civil to your mudblood friends like Granger?" Neville looked away, unsure of how to answer such valid questions, it all seemed so easy before she said it like that. "Nothing can come from what we did. Fairy tales are a myth, Longbottom. Stories of fiction to make good little boys and girls stay innocent as long as possible before they are slapped across the face with reality and tossed into the big, bad, real world. The hero doesn't always win and the good guy doesn't always get the girl. These stories you have heard growing up are nothing but lies. This is reality, you're an heir; your family is expecting you to marry a sweet, light witch from a respectable light family that will bear you a sweet, light heir to continue your legacy," Graces paused, staring down at the Malfoy crest that was stamped on her ring, "And I have expectations as well, family is everything, Longbottom. The real key to immortality, and I will not hurt mine. We could never possibly grow to fancy one another."

For the rest of the class the two partners worked in silence. There seemed to be nothing to say, Graces was content on pretending that the whole thing never happened, and Neville didn't see that he had any other option than to go along pretending as well. He had no answers to Graces questions, even if he did accept her for all that she was, good and bad, his family and friends never would. It was a harsh reality, and yet he still wished that she had said yes to going on a proper date with him. Graces Malfoy, without her stoic mask, was an amazingly bewitching girl. She said that she didn't think that they could grow to fancy one another, but Neville knew that he, at least, could. He did. He fancied her now. She was smart, funny, hard working, endearingly awful at Herbology, had the prettiest of smiles and the most melodic laugh. It hurt in ways he had never expected that she didn't want to share that part of herself with him.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, class was dismissed. Graces and Neville packed their things in awkward silence.

"Neville." Neville looked up from packing his inkwell to see Hannah standing nervously in front of his and Graces' work area. It was odd for Hannah to come over to his desk instead of waiting with Hermione outside for him. "I –I was wondering if you wanted to meet up at the Three Broomsticks Saturday for a butterbeer or something."

"Yeah, sure Hannah, that sounds great," Neville said, continuing to pack his things, "Who else is going?"

"Umm... well I was planning on it just being you and I. Like a date," Hannah stammered, nervously playing with one of her braids.

Graces paused next to Neville at Hannah's last statement, before hurriedly trying to clean her work area to get away.

"Uh... sure, Hannah, that would be nice," the sandy haired boy muttered absolutely shocked, he really had no idea what to do. Hannah was one of his dearest friends and he didn't want to hurt her feelings, especially now that he knew what that felt like. He was never exactly good at saying no, either. And let's not forget the fact that Graces had made it very clear she did not want to go on a date with him, so he had no one to go with. He didn't even realize what he was saying until it was out of his mouth. The Hufflepuff smiled brightly before leaving the class. When he came out of his surprise, he realized that he had just agreed to a date right next to Graces. He turned to say something to her only to find that she was turning to leave.

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Draco sat across from his sister in the Great Hall, eyeing her warily. He knew something was terribly wrong with her. Others may not have noticed, but he could see the sadness etched in her stoney eyes. She smiled and laughed with Pansy, bantered with Blaise, but none of that could fool him. She was his flesh and blood, the only person in the world that knew him completely and he was the only person that knew her completely.

"Do you want to tell me what is wrong?" Draco asked under his breath, taking a bite of his porridge.

"Nothing's wrong," Graces said quietly.

"Bollocks, you've been upset for days," Draco ventured, becoming increasingly frustrated, "you look as though someone has killed your kneazle."

"I don't have a kneazle."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the ill attempt at humor on his sister's part. "That is beside the point and you know it. So spill."

"Please, Draco, just leave it alone. Please."

"I can't leave it alone, you have been moping about the castle since Monday! It's Friday morning and you look, if possible, even more miserable."

The two Slytherins sat there, at a stalemate, neither willing to bend to the other. Draco waited patiently for Graces to give him any hint of what was wrong.

"Draco please," Graces whispered her voice laced with her misery "If I tell you, I'll cry. I'll turn into Moaning Myrtle right here in the Great Hall for the whole school to see. Please leave me be."

Draco wanted to whisk his sister away in an abandoned room and let her cry. He wanted to fold her into his arms and let her sob endlessly against his chest while he whispered soothing words to her until she was exhausted and her eyes had run dry. He wanted to fill whatever hollow feeling in her chest with reassurances that she was loved and that he would take care of her, but instead he nodded his head and reached across the table and took her hand in his, rubbing her palm with his thumb in gentle circles that immediately seemed to calm her.

"I should go to class," Graces reminded, pulling her hand away. Draco watched as his sister dejectedly rose from her seat. She looked as though she were a prisoner in Azkaban, walking to receive the dementor's kiss.

"Would you like me to walk you?" he offered concerned.

Graces hesitated in answering, worrying her lip and looking off to the side as though embarrassed by her own weakness. Draco realized she probably was, but kept his face composed. If he looked at her sympathetically she would only take it as pity.

"That would make you late for your class, I have Herbology today."

"My offer still stands. Would you like me to walk you?"

"I don't want you to be late." Her lip quivered a bit and she looked away, but she was strong. Not strong enough though, no one can stay that strong for that long, not even a Malfoy.

"I'll walk you." Draco stood, flinging his bag onto his shoulders and waited for his sister to gather her things. They walked in comfortable silence to the greenhouse, shoulders brushing as they made their way over. He didn't need to see her to know that she was lost in her world of thought. Draco silently prayed that she would say something, anything before he left her. They were now nearing the greenhouse and his heart sank slightly with the realization that she was not going to confide in him. "Graces, you know you can tell me anything, anything at all."

Graces nodded her head, but Draco wasn't convinced that she truly believed him.

"You are my flesh and blood Graces; nothing you say to me will ever change that. And you know nothing means more to a Malfoy than their blood. Whatever is going on you don't have to hide it from me."

"What if it's terrible, what if I've done something unforgivable by your standards? By Malfoy standards..."

Draco's heart clenched at how small his sister sounded. He wondered what it was that she had done that he would consider unforgivable. Then again, to dark purebloods many things could constitute as unforgivable. Ironically, none of these included unforgivable curses.

"You could never do anything unforgivable by my standards."

Graces swallowed what seemed to be a rock of emotions, "What if I slept with Neville Longbottom? And what if I now think I fancy him?"

"Fine," Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes "go on, make your jokes. I'll let you keep your little secret." He gave her a small smile. "Surely whatever it is isn't as bad as that."

He decided to bend down and kiss Graces on her forehead, public displays of affection were rare among the Malfoys, but considering how destitute his sister was looking these days, he decided to indulge her. When he pulled away, her eyes were swimming with unwept tears and she looked as though she wanted to say something more, but in the end she turned and headed for her class. Draco felt something coil in his chest as he watched his sister disappear into the greenhouse. He wished that he knew what it was that was torturing her. As he headed back to the castle he decided that he would take her to the three Broomsticks tomorrow, just the two of them, and he would buy her so much candy that she would be as hyped up as a cornish pixie.

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Graces walked into the greenhouse with a sinking heart. Draco thought she was kidding, that her confession wasn't true. He thought the whole idea, of her sleeping with Longbottom, completely preposterous. She wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all, there was truly no one she could talk to. She didn't even realize how badly she wanted to confess and be heard until Draco had dismissed her. She wished he had believed her; she would have welcomed his screams over his gentle kiss that was supposed to be reassuring. It wasn't. It felt like cold acid had been released into her blood and was eating her insides. Draco trusted that she hadn't done such a foolish thing and he believed she deserved comfort. She didn't deserve comfort though, she deserved the pain she was in because she had caused it for herself. It was only her fault. She had been the one foolish enough to sleep with Longbottom and then actually fancy him after she knew she couldn't, shouldn't, have him.

The worst part was that she didn't realize that she fancied him until he accepted the date with Abbot. The moment he agreed, it was like a thestral kicked her in the stomach and the ache that was there still hadn't gone away. All of a sudden, she was noticing every good quality the pudgy pureblood had: she noticed when he stopped in the courtyard to comfort a homesick first year instead of continuing on with his friends, she noticed how he never shot dirty looks at Slytherins like the rest of the Gryffindors, she noticed how vibrant his laughter was and how he usually tilted his head up towards the sky as he let himself be overcome with the humor and she noticed his smile. Graces had never seen a kinder smile in all her life. Neville's smile was like warm sunlight on a cold day, it instantly sent warmth to whoever he graced with it. She had thought that the effect of his smile would eventually wear off since he smiled so often, but it didn't. Anytime he passed her in the hall he would offer her a small, shy smile that made her heart flutter and her insides turn warm with silent affection.

Graces hated him for that. She hated that he now wielded a power over her that she couldn't control. She hated that her heart reacted to him against her wishes. So she did the only thing that she could think to do, she tried to push him away. When he smiled at her in the halls, she made herself scowl at him. When he tried to talk to her in herbology, she gave clipped answers that made it clear his conversation wasn't welcome, and when he brushed up against her by accident, she pointedly moved farther away from him. He would, of course, ignore her hostility and continue to try and be pleasant, but she couldn't find it in herself to even be neutral towards him. He had hurt her. She knew they couldn't have anything with one another, that what they had done had been a mistake, but she didn't expect him to so easily forget about her and accept a date with Abbott.

"I got a new top for Saturday!" Graces heard Hannah exclaim excitedly to Hermione. "It's green, Neville's favorite," the Hufflepuff's voice then dropped to a secretive whisper, "And it's a bit low cut, nothing inappropriate, but..." Hannah's voice trailed off suggestively. Graces quickly hurried her steps not wanting to hear anymore than she had to.

She made herself feel better by imagining setting Abbot's stupid, childish braids on fire for giggling secretly with her friends in the hall the past week every time Neville walked by. It had been almost five days since Neville agreed to go on a date with the girl and she was still giggling and swooning over him any time he passed her. It was absolutely ridiculous! She had known Longbottom for years, and for years she was able to act like a normal person around him. Then, with one date coming up, she acts as though she is under amortentia. The idiot.

Graces silently took her seat next to Neville and immediately started pulling out her work when she felt a gentle hand go to her shoulder. She whipped her head to the side and glared at the sandy haired boy beside her for having the audacity to touch her. "Are you okay?"

Graces turned away from Neville's kind eyes and shrugged his hand off her. "I'm fine," she muttered tightly, fighting desperately to not let her face betray her.

"Are… are you sure? I saw your brother walking you to class... and you've seen a bit… off all week."

"I said I was fine," Graces replied icily, feeling exposed under Neville's concerned eyes.

Professor Sprout came up a few moments later and told the class about how they would be working with Devil's Snare. Graces took in a long breath, today was definitely not her day. She couldn't remember the last time she worked with a plant like Devil's Snare without it trying to attack her, or, in fact, any plant. She followed Neville to the dark area where they would be pruning the malignant plant and stared at its seemingly innocent vines. Their plant was still young, its vines were the size of a child's arm, but they could still take a firm hold and cause damage to one's body.

"Why don't you let me deal with the plant and you create the light?" Neville suggested, giving Graces a hopeful smile that, even in the dark, gleamed and set her skin prickling with warmth, "I mean... no offense, but I would hate to lose my partner."

Graces scoffed at his attempt at humor, "Yeah, because you have such a hard time replacing me don't you, Longbottom." Immediately the blond girl wanted to take her words back. Neville was now standing with his back to the plant looking at her with a confused furrow between his brows; there was no hostility in his eyes, just sheer confusion.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing," Graces whispered, looking away embarrassed, "forget I said anything."

"No, you are upset. What is it?"

"I am not upset, just leave it. I'm fine."

"Please," Neville proceeded exasperatedly, "I've been around Hermione and Ginny enough to know that when a girl says she's fine and she is not, she is lying. Just tell me what it is."

"WHY!? WHY SHOULD I TELL YOU ANYTHING? YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND, YOU DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ME, NOT REALLY. YOU TRY TO TELL YOURSELF THAT YOU DO, BUT YOU FORGET ABOUT ME INSTANTLY, THE MOMENT—"

Graces didn't get to finish her rant before she felt something pull her feet from under her and darkness began to creep around her vision before it swallowed her completely.

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In case you haven't noticed I love cliff-hangers! Don't forget to review/follow! I will try to get chapter 6 up as soon as possible!