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 notes: I am sooo sorry this chapter is so late on being submitted. Both my betas had very busy schedules and this was a very long chapter for them to edit.
If you are able to understand the first paragraph of this chapter you should definitely be thanking Aurthurdent2. Apparently what I had written first was extremely confusing haha, but she caught it and fixed it while adding her own special flair. She also added some of her flair to a few other paragraphs too. Also, did you know that Denarii is like an expert in all things canon? Well, he is. And he is such an amazing help when it comes to suggesting better spells for me to use. He caught a huge mistake in spell use that I would never have realized was a mistake. So kudos to my amazing betas.
Special thanks to BlueRose22, Phoenix, Savannah's Angels, Chazz, and Guest for their reviews! You guys are great, I really appreciate it!
Chapter 8
Neville, with nothing else to do, thought about the night before. He had spent his time not gaining necessary sleep—which he hadn't properly had in what felt like ages—but instead wandering the halls of Hogwarts and trying to understand Graces' reaction on the staircase. He had decided that Graces Malfoy must be five different people in one body; it was the only explanation for how drastically her person changed on a daily basis.
That being decided, he realized that he was more dim than he thought before. Despite his realization that Graces was insane, he was still hiding out in the hall by the library, wasting the last precious hours of his weekend and waiting for her to appear. He had considered just venturing in, asking for a private word with her and getting this whole mess over with, but he didn't fancy having half the Slytherin house taking notice of him. He knew, without a doubt, that Graces would have been, if possible, even more cold towards him with her house watching, so he waited. He still had no idea what he was going to say to her. He wanted to ask why she was on the stairs, why she was upset that day in Herbology, why she insisted on being so cruel towards him one minute and then pleasant the next, but he had no idea how to articulate into words what he was feeling or thinking. He wondered if Graces even knew herself how she felt.
Quiet murmurs alerted him that the young Slytherins were done being tutored and were beginning to exit the library. Neville peeked out from the corner and watched as they all turned down the hall towards the dungeons.
"Higgs, could you hold on a moment?" Graces voice called out to a group of 3rd years. Neville watched as a small boy walked slowly over to her. Neville tried to get a look at the young boy plodding towards Graces. He could see that he had dark hair, but his face was hidden from view as he looked down at his shoes. He appeared to be small for a third year, but Neville realized as the boy came closer that he only appeared that way because of how he held himself.
Graces said nothing at first. She stared down at the shy boy for a moment, obviously scrutinizing every detail of him. Neville watched as Graces then reached out her hand and placed a delicate finger under the boy's strong chin. She pulled his head up before smoothly walking around him, pressing her hand gently in the middle of his back, pulling back his shoulders gently, until his posture was as perfect as her own. The boy blushed, but maintained the position she had arranged him in.
"You are a Slytherin and a pureblood. I will not have you holding yourself with anything less than pride. You are a representative of our house and of your lineage. Do you understand?"
The small boy nodded at Graces' words, which caused her to give him a scolding look. "Y-y-yes."
"Good," Graces said in a clipped voice, before smiling softly and kneeling down so that she was just a bit below the young boy. She turned to her side and took out the drawing that had been at her bedside when she was in the hospital wing. "This is lovely, Thomas," she said quietly, letting the gratitude show in her face.
"I'm g-gl-glad y-you l-like it," Thomas stuttered, his face clearly straining against his speech impediment. It was obvious that the boy was embarrassed by his speech; Neville was even embarrassed for him. He remembered how cruelly everyone would taunt Professor Quirrell behind his back. He could only imagine how this boy was taunted. He was, after all, in Slytherin, a house whose occupants were known to be especially cruel.
Graces just continued to smile at him with a soft expression as though she didn't notice. "You're very talented Thomas; I've never had a more beautiful picture of myself," she paused for a moment and smiled in that way that could melt a heart and steal breath, "Or a more thoughtful gift. When did you draw it?"
Thomas licked his lips and closed his eyes. "T-the f-first we-we-week this s-s-s-emes-ster."
Graces just nodded before standing up gracefully and pressing a gentle kiss on the nervous boy's cheek. His eyes widened considerably for a moment before he schooled an indifferent face on, but that still didn't hide his blush.
"You may go now, Higgs," Graces dismissed, her voice back to one that mirrored McGonagall's. "Be sure to rewrite that paragraph before you turn it in to Flitwick; he's a stickler for concept theory."
Graces watched him go, a curled finger hiding the amusement on her lips. Neville stood in the shadows, not wanting to break this moment. He wanted to forever memorize the tender look on Graces' face as she watched Higgs go down the hall. In the quiet stillness of that moment, Neville knew who Graces was. Everything she was in front of people was a facade, but the girl he had seen when no others were around was the true Graces Malfoy. And Graces Malfoy was amazing. She was sweet, funny, selfless, strong, smart, witty and incredibly tender hearted. Neville knew that she was just as flawed, and that she was more harsh than she was kind. Every snide remark, every hostile glare could be easily forgotten when he saw her in moments like this. He was now convinced that he would rather deal with her bad moments if her good ones were this wonderful.
"A bit too young for you, don't you think?"
Neville looked over, behind Graces, to see Theodore Nott standing with his arms crossed and leaning against the cool stone of the castle. Neville frowned, there was something in the way Nott was looking at her that made him wary. He saw a brief flicker of rage cross Graces' face before she schooled it away and turned to face the tall boy.
"He's not that much younger," Graces noted casually, her face cool and unfriendly. "He would be a suitable match, after all: pureblood, rich, Slytherin, neutral in the war and he is from a good, respectable family."
Nott's eyes flashed with something unknown for a moment before he moved off the stone wall and came closer to where Graces was standing. "A suitable match? I never thought you would care for a husband that could barely speak."
"Maybe I like the strong silent type."
"I would hardly say that Higgs is strong."
"Anyone who can live in a pureblood society with a flaw such as his and still manage to uphold their family name and honor is strong. And in case it has escaped your notice, he is a second year who has MASTERED non-verbal spells."
Nott snorted, "Out of necessity."
"When he is a man, no one will care that he mastered it out of necessity, people will only see him as a man they should be wary of, with such strong magic. Magic like that can make people forget. Even now I can see the fear beginning to emerge in his peers' eyes. Most students are not even aware of his problem. He hides it so well, never speaking in front of other houses, remaining silent during class and even in the halls being mindful of his company. With the proper posture and look, he will be viewed as a looming figure that quietly calculates his enemies' downfalls. The man that does not speak gives nothing away. All he needs is for someone to show him how to be that man."
Nott was now pinching the bridge in between his eyes, clearly frustrated with the conversation. "I always manage to forget that when it comes to the younger years you're like a Hungarian Horntail protecting her young. Can we please start over, please?"
"There is no such thing."
Nott took a deep breath and put his hand out as though to pull Graces towards him, but the blond girl moved sharply away her hand now stretched forward with her wand. "I just... Merlin, Graces, I miss you. I just want to talk to you. You didn't reply to a single owl I sent you over the summer and you returned the card and flowers I sent you in the hospital wing."
"I would think," Graces said slowly, her wand never wavering from the boy in front of her, "that based off of all that, you would get the hint that I want nothing to do with you."
Nott pressed forward, his chest now touching the end of her wand, "I know you care about me. If you didn't you would have told your brother and—"
"Has it ever crossed your mind that I did not tell my brother because you are of no great consequence to me? I wouldn't waste my or his efforts on seeking vengeance on you," Graces interrupted coldly, placing her wand in her robes and turning to leave.
"Graces, please! I love you."
Graces paused for a moment before turning around and moving so that she was toe to toe with Nott. Neville would have thought she was going to kiss him, if her face didn't look so dark. "You don't know what that word means," she whispered venomously, causing the boy in front of her to take a step back while Neville leaned in closer to hear more. "Because if you did then you would have never told me that then went and fucked some Ravenclaw girl when we were still together!" Nott stumbled back from the blow to his chest that Graces had given him. "How dare you betray me like that and then stand before me and proclaim that you love me."
"I do love you!" Nott pleaded, trying desperately to convince the girl before him that he was being sincere.
Graces watched Nott plead for a moment, her face never losing its obvious disgust. "Maybe you do love me, and if that is the case, your love isn't worth anything. It certainly isn't good enough for me."
"Graces," it was obvious that Nott was trying to sound patient and understanding but was close to losing his composure. "I realize that was deserved, that I hurt you and—"
"The only thing you hurt, Theodore, was my pride. That is the only thing you can claim to have affected me on. I didn't weep over the loss of you, I only seethed in fury that you had betrayed me. I would never have gone to bed with another man if I was already spoken for."
"That's easy for you to say isn't it? You won't go to bed with anyone." Nott scoffed, a sneer outlining his lips. "What did you expect Graces? I tell you I love you, and you don't say it back. Yet, you expect me to remain faithful, when all you allow me to do is snog you? And even then you don't seem too into it. Do you have any idea how many girls have thrown themselves at me? How many opportunities I have had to go to bed with other girls? Does all the times I remained faithful to you mean nothing?"
"You are absolutely right Theo, how could I have been so selfish," Graces said mockingly, "Thank you sooo much, Theo, for not screwing all those other girls. Of course I forgive that you fucked some little tart and didn't even have the decency to shower her off of you before seeing me. I was such a horrid girlfriend for not letting you bed me. I mean, you were always trying just so hard to get me to, and I just let all your efforts go to waste. It's no wonder you did what you did. After all, it was my fault for not sleeping with you, for not loving you."
Nott flushed, "That's not what I was saying."
"Oh, but it's what you think isn't it, Theo?" The silence seemed to be reply enough for Graces. "Your love and devotion is ignoble."
"That's at least better than yours, which is non-existent," Nott replied, in a pathetic attempt to regain some dignity.
"I'll have you know, Nott," Graces said, her voice laced with venom "that I love more passionately and with more devotion than you could ever hope to imagine, and the people I choose to love are those that can match mine. I would lay my life down for any of the people in my life that I love. Granted, I only love three people in this world, but at least the love I offer is real. You claim to want something with me and then go off and screw some girl and try to tell me it was nothing. If you loved me then you wouldn't sleep with some random girl, knowing how intimate I found that act to be. It's no wonder I never felt comfortable enough to do that with you. Now that we are through, I see that you are the last man I could ever bring myself to sleep with."
Graces turned to leave, obviously believing that the Slytherin wouldn't have a retort to any of what she said.
"I highly doubt I am the last," Nott protested, "I doubt you would be willing to bed someone like… someone like Neville Longbottom before me."
Neville flushed at the comment, but saw Graces smirk wickedly to herself before turning to face her ex. "I would gladly let Neville Longbottom take me to bed over you. I bet he kisses in ways that would set my blood on fire, and make me ache with need that you never could make me feel. I bet that, just like with plants, he knows exactly how and where to touch to make me lose myself in sensation. He may not be the most powerful boy at this school and he may not be the smartest, but at least he has integrity. Neville Longbottom is a far greater man now than you will ever be."
Nott was visibly seething at Graces passionate speech, his jaw was tight as he clenched his teeth and Neville readied his wand, expecting him to go forward and strike Graces. "I would be very careful of what you say, Malfoy," he bit out, "I understand you are mad and are saying such things to hurt me, but if anyone heard you talking about a blood traitor like that..." Nott let his sentence trail off, leaving Graces to imagine exactly what could happen, before stomping past her down the hall.
Neville stood there in awe of all that he had heard. He wondered if Graces was hurt by Nott's adultery. He would have certainly been crushed if a girl he had been with for two years had slept with another guy. He had a hard time believing that Graces' pride was the only thing hurt. It was hard to tell with Graces, she hid her emotions so well, he hoped that she wasn't wounded by Nott's infidelity. Neville hated the thought of Graces sitting alone crying to herself over a waste of a man like Nott.
Nott is a fool, the best plants often need more time and tending before they give any signs of budding. If she didn't want to have sex, he should have waited and tended to her needs, enjoying the time he spent with her, he should have tried to know her better. If I were him I wouldn't have cared so much about that, I know for a fact it would have been worth the wait.
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssss
Graces watched as Nott went down the hall back to the Slytherin dorms. She would have expected her heart to be beating vigorously from the confrontation, but it wasn't. If anything she felt euphoric. She didn't have any feelings for Nott. That realization came long ago when she found out he cheated on her. He had walked over to her in the common room after studying with his Ancient Runes partner and she could smell the girl's perfume mingled with the musky scent of his sweat. Of course, that wasn't the only sign. What made the situation all too obvious was when he had bent down to kiss her. There was no hiding the unfamiliar taste on his lips, the taste of another woman. It didn't take a genius to realize what had happened. She should have stood and raged in front of the whole common room at his fornication, but in reality she didn't even care that he had been with another. She only wanted to keep the student population from knowing her embarrassment.
Humiliated, but still wanting to keep up appearances, she had calmly asked Nott to accompany her on a late night stroll. It wasn't until they were alone, outside the castle, that she coolly stated, "I think it rather pointless for us to be together, now that you have found company in another girl's bed." And that had been it. Nott, of course, said the usual things: that it was a mistake, it would never happen again, that he loved her, asked her to give him another chance etc., but she had been able to shrug off each claim and plea. She hadn't cared. It was really an awakening to how little she felt for him.
She smiled to herself, she couldn't help but be thankful that she wasn't the type of girl to give any sort of feeling to a boy like Nott. Even now, after their harsh exchange, she didn't hate him. Hate was too strong of a feeling to devote to someone so unworthy of attention. She had, admittedly, enjoyed cutting him down with her words, but she was a Malfoy. They always enjoyed such pastimes with those who had wronged them.
She began walking down the other hall. She should have started her prefect rounds half an hour ago, but the confrontation had kept her from her duties. Not that she minded, being late for rounds was well worth the look on Nott's face when she told him she would let Longbottom bed her. Suddenly she felt a hand on her arm and she was being pulled sideways into a dark room. Graces felt her heart jump into her throat as the rest of her body began to be flooded with a mixture of adrenaline and panic.
Don't allow your fear to overpower you, always think, Graces. What will be your attacker's next move, think. Graces could hear her father's voice sounding inside her headand thanked the heavens that he had prepared her for things like this. She pulled a dagger from her robes, just as her assailant reached out to grab what he thought was her wand from her hands. A sharp hiss of pain and the feeling of warm blood dripping on her hand let her know that her plan had worked. Graces took advantage of her attacker's initial shock. In three swift, precise movements she pulled herself away from her attacker, pinned him to the wall and had her dagger right against his Adam's apple, ready to slice him open. Graces was prepared for a multitude of possible assailants under her dagger, anyone from a wizard her father had scathed in the past to a boy who thought he could have his way with her. What she wasn't prepared to see was Neville Longbottom under her blade. Shocked, she dropped her weapon and took a step back.
"Are you mad?!" Neville exclaimed, cradling his injured hand to his chest. "Who on earth goes around carrying daggers like that?!"
"Am I mad? Who goes dragging witches into dark closets? AND a dark witch to boot? I swear you Gryffindors have a death wish," Graces fumed, now understanding why people grabbed their own hair in frustration.
"I wouldn't have had to drag you if you would just be a normal person and talk to me."
Graces took a few deep breaths and reminded herself that she was a Malfoy, and Malfoys did not stick their tongue out at boys that they had just cut with a dagger. "Longbottom, there is nothing for us to talk about besides potions and plants."
Neville's eyes narrowed at the stubborn blond before him. He was about to retort, to tell Graces that they most certainly had other things to discuss, when he felt an odd warming sensation spreading through his hand slowly to his wrist. When he looked down he saw that the veins in his hand, usually not visible, were now turning black. He watched as the color slowly creeped up his arm, like black roots taking hold in his skin. "You poisoned that dagger, didn't you?" he muttered hollowly, not allowing himself to truly take in what was happening.
Neville waited for Graces reply and closed his eyes as only silence filled the room. When he did look up, Graces was looking at his hand with such panic that Neville realized that whatever poison she had used must have been incredibly bad.
I should have figured, she's a Malfoy. She probably put the most dangerous poison she could think of on that dagger.
Neville began trembling violently as he considered what kind of poison the blonde must have used on him. The slight burning sensation and the fact it was using his veins let him know that whatever poison she used was going straight to his heart to kill him. He was honestly more surprised that she had chosen a slow poison.
"What poison is on that dagger?" Neville said vacantly, looking away from the girl before him, and back to his hand.
"Ardenis Radis," Graces admitted softly, looking over to the door. Neville couldn't tell if she was speaking to him or to herself. "It burns through the victims veins, causing them to bleed out some, before shooting up through the vessels into the heart. There it catches the organ on fire. Ordinarily, the victim dies within minutes... minutes of sheer agony. That's all most of its victims have to withstand, but I placed a preserving potion in it. It allows the potion to move through the veins slowly and let the heat grow slowly as well. With my modifications the death would take three hours instead of three minutes, the heart burning slowly before being set aflame."
"That's... that's... to even brew that potion is a life sentence in Azkaban, to use it is a dementor's—" Neville let the statement drop, Graces' eyes were closed and her breathing was erratic. Neville knew he should be panicking, but he wasn't. He honestly didn't feel anything, other than a mild warming sensation gently spreading in his arm. "You should go before someone sees, before you're caught."
Graces eyes flew open and her mouth dropped slightly, "I wouldn't leave you like this."
"There's nothing you can do. I doubt Pomfrey has the antidote. I doubt anyone does. It takes three months to make, and since no one has made that potion since the dark ages there is no point in both of us losing our lives. Go."
"You stupid Gryffindor. Do you think I would make that poison without making the antidote? I have the antidote."
"Then why do you look so frightened?"
Graces didn't answer, instead she took hold of Neville's good hand and began dragging him through the castle out the main doors. It was so dark that the grass spreading before them looked black and the small amount of light that was emitted was from the night's stars and the glow from the gamekeeper's hut in the distance. Neville should have been focused more on what was happening, but in actuality his thoughts were with Graces and the fact that she was holding his hand.
"Longbottom, do you trust me?"
Neville nodded, then realized that Graces couldn't see his answer as she was walking in front of him. "With my life."
Graces looked back at him for a moment and muttered something about stupidity and Gryffindors as she continued towards the hut. "Wait here," she ordered, hiding Neville behind a barrel by the door.
A few moments after Graces knocked on the door, Hagrid appeared with Fang on his heels.
"Malfoy, bit late to be wantin the key isn' it?" Hagrid's rugged voice echoed through the doorway. Neville wanted to peek his head out a little more to see what Hagrid's face looked like. He didn't know if Hagrid liked Graces, he imagined he would have reason not to after the stunt her father and brother pulled third year with trying to get Buckbeak put down and him sacked. Then again, Hagrid was the most understanding and gentle soul Neville had ever met, he doubted that he would hold a grudge against anyone.
"I know." There was silence for a few moments, Neville wondered what Graces needed with a key and how often had she been coming here asking Hagrid for one. It seemed like this was a normal routine for the two.
"Well, they do seem to like you. Always perky after a night with you, suppose they like the attention. Don' get much of that from other students; mostly 'cause other students can't see 'em and the ones that can, well, people don't much like being around me."
"I'll clean the stalls," Graces offered quietly, Neville could hear from her voice that she was uncomfortable talking to the gamekeeper.
"You always do, but still it's late. No offense, Malfoy, but you look like you could use some decent sleep."
"I'm fine!" Graces exclaimed, desperation mingling in with her usually calm voice. "Please, I swear I am fine. Please."
"Ya never did tell me why you liked being around them so much," Hagrid said gently, obviously offering Graces a sort of quid pro quo agreement.
Neville chanced a sight at Graces and saw that she clearly did not like this agreement. Reveal something about herself and be allowed the key.
"It's… well... it's… its silly…"
"I'm sure I've heard and thought sillier things. Besides I won't be telling anyone. I've kept this secret enough haven't I? Merlin knows your father would throw a fit if he knew how often you spent time in a barn cleaning pens and talking with half-breeds."
"I never said that you were," Graces mumbled quietly, looking down.
"But ya think it, don't you?"
Graces swallowed hard and closed her eyes still examining the floor, before she pulled herself up tall and met Hagrids stare.
"People are so frightened of thestrals because they hate that they are a reminder that we all will one day meet the same fate. You and I may share nothing else in common, but we will both die. They're frightened of them, because most people can't face that simple fact of life that we are all limited to our time here on earth. They label them dark because they represent death, which makes no sense because death is just as certain for light wizards and witches as for dark. No one cares what is pulling the carts to the castle until they can see them and then instead of being in awe of such a creature they are frightened and don't stop thinking of why they can see them. They don't see how beautiful they are, how graceful. They're lovely, really. They're always playing on the grounds and they don't care if people can see them or not. They're not bruised that people cringe away from them. They go about their lives free from judgment because they choose to be."
There was a pregnant silence for a moment before Hagrid asked awkwardly, "Do you feel judged?"
"I'm a Slytherin," Graces replied with cold dignity, "My house is always judged. Evil, right? That's what the school believes. I believe you have even made mention of it."
"Well you know," Hagrid started embarrassed, "I didn' mean all of you lot. Just most dark wizards do come from that house."
"More Order of Merlins have been given to Hufflepuff and no dark wizard has come from that house and yet Gryffindor is still seen as the good and noble house despite people like Pettigrew coming from there."
"Well…" It was clear that Hagrid was at a loss as to what to say and very uncomfortable with the cold glare he was receiving from Graces. "Can't really argue with that, can I? Tell you what, Malfoy, I'll let you have the key, but promise me you will get some rest. I heard about your accident in Herbology and honestly don't think it is helping you much to be up like this."
"Thank you, Professor Hagrid," Neville let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding at the loss of venom in Graces' voice. "I will. I promise though, I'm fine. Good as new."
The light from the inside of the hut disappeared as Hagrid shut the door. Graces waited a moment, listening to make sure Hagrid was away from the door and back in bed, before she turned towards Neville.
"We have to go quickly; we don't have much time before you start to feel pain." Neville gulped audibly and prayed that Graces didn't notice, but based on the small glance she tossed over to him, she had. "I... I should have told you earlier, but, well, the antidote is very painful. Almost as painful as the poison."
Neville had not heard yet about what the antidote could do, but he knew that the poison running through his veins now was so painful that most victims committed suicide or had someone else kill them before the poison could run its course. Its victims could not even take that amount of pain for a few minutes. Neville just stared at the blonde before him. He had convinced himself that she was not evil, not a Death Eater yet, still able to reach salvation, but looking at his arm now his black veins becoming dangerously closer to his chest he wondered if he had been wrong.
"I will fix this." They were in the barn now and Neville was seated on a wooden chair. He had not even realized that they had entered. He could see the thestrals all around him and shuddered. Graces' hand was on his cheek, warm and soft against his clammy skin. She was on her knees in front of him, her eyes pleading for him to listen to her. "I will fix this. Do you still trust me?"
"How could you brew that potion? And actually make it worse for its victims? Why would you do such a thing, want to put someone in that much pain?"
The blonde leaned away from him and snapped back her hand as though it had been burned from Neville's skin. Neville was about to continue in his questioning until searing pain engulfed his arm and his heart felt as if someone was holding a hot coal to it. He screamed, falling off the bench and onto the dirty hay covered floor. It hurt, more than anything he had ever felt before. It hurt just as bad as the Cruciatus curse and, Neville realized with stunned horror, that this still wasn't the full extent. Graces made it so it would build in the hours to come. He wanted desperately to pass out, he could feel darkness unfolding around his eyes, but anytime he reached out to go into the darkness a blaze of light would erupt and he would be more aware of the pain he was in.
The pain was so extensive he didn't realize that he had somehow ended up in a trough of cold water stripped to his boxers and undershirt, and that Graces was on top of him fighting to keep him in the trough as she poured the antidote into the water and made long cuts on his arms and legs, causing black liquid to slowly seep out of him. As soon as his open wounds had mingled with the potioned water it felt like a war raging under his skin. It hurt, if possible, more violently than before. Neville felt as though he were fighting flames with his fist. There was nothing he could do, he was helpless. He no longer cared about the antidote, he just wanted everything to end. Nothing could possibly feel worse than this. The coal that had originally felt like it had been pressed to his heart to burn him now felt as though it had been pushed through and was inside his heart and something was violently trying to rip it out of him.
"Stop fighting me!" Graces desperately pleaded, as she tried to keep Neville inside the trough so the poison would leave his body. All of her energy and magic was being pushed into her arms and legs to give her enough strength to hold Neville down, but she knew magical exhaustion was going to creep up on her eventually. If it came to that, she would not be able to hold Neville down any longer and the poison would be left inside him. In a desperate move, she lifted her hands off the boy beneath her and scrambled to get her wand out. Neville, far from reality, pushed Graces violently off him, sending her hard onto the wooden floor as he tried to escape. Graces fumbled through her robes a few seconds more and finally pulled out her wand. She quickly cast incarcerous on Neville and breathed a sigh of relief when the sandy haired boy was forced to stay in the trough.
Graces lifted herself off the floor and hissed as she felt how sore her muscles were from wrestling Neville down. Neville was now shaking violently in the black water, his face paler than a ghost's, and he was muttering words under his breath that the Slytherin couldn't bring herself to listen to. Hesitantly, she reached out and gently pat his forehead. "Longbottom, listen to me. Please try to focus on me." Neville just gritted his teeth against the pain. Graces wondered if he was even able to hear her.
Graces finished putting in the rest of the potions and Neville instantly felt a bit of relief in his chest. The pain wasn't all gone, but the burning in his heart subsided greatly and that was the worst of it. He breathed heavily and opened his eyes, looking at Graces. He was still shaking from the pain that was still lingering, but he was no longer being driven mad.
"Distract. Me," he bit out through gritted teeth, looking up at Graces through lidded eyes.
"Uh, how?"
Neville just shook violently and closed his eyes. "Tell... me... something... about... you."
Graces bit her lip and debated telling him something about herself. It was an odd request and she didn't want to tell him anything about herself that would be distracting. "Wouldn't you rather just... think of Hannah? Like your date with her? How pretty she looked in her blouse? How you felt when you, well, ended the date?"
Neville just shook his head and then the second potion seemed to be finally working because his veins were finally returning to a normal color and the water in the trough began to steam as heat left Neville and went into the cool water. Neville hissed as the hot water stung his skin. He moved against the ropes as though to get up, but Graces pushed him back down. "I know a lot of the pain is gone, but the poison is still in you. You must stay in here all night, if you don't some poison will remain in you and the antidote won't work without me starting a new one and unfortunately I only have one brew."
Neville nodded and forced himself to relax in the trough just his head out of the water. His skin burned, his muscles ached and his heart felt like it had been badly burned and was throbbing in pain. On top of that, he was beginning to feel sick to his stomach from having such a toxin in him. Every once in awhile he still felt shooting pain in his chest causing him to wince noticeably. "Tell me something now," he commanded after another shot of pain coursed through his heart.
"Wouldn't you rather—"
"No! I want to know something about you, something no one really knows, and considering what I am going though at the moment, I think it is the least you could do."
Graces hesitated, "I—" she paused again and looked at Neville, "You can't tell anyone, Longbottom, okay?" Neville just rolled his eyes and nodded in agreement as another shot of pain coursed through him, causing him to grunt. "I, well, Ilikemugglemusic."
Neville stared at Graces in shock. "No way."
Graces blushed, a deep shade of red, and turned away as though the corner of the room had just become very interesting.
"But... but you're a Malfoy. You hate muggles. You think they should all be dead."
Graces continued to look anywhere but at Neville. "I... I just like it."
"I think I am in shock," Neville whispered, still looking at Graces. "I can't feel anything anymore. You just put me in shock. A Malfoy who likes muggle music, Merlin's beard. How did you ever even get into muggle music?"
Graces continued to blush and look away. "I, well, I passed by Thomas one day in the courtyard and he and Granger were listening to the radio, but it was the wizard station that played muggle music for mudbloods to listen to." Neville ignored Graces' racial slur and continued to listen. "And, well, I really liked the song and I couldn't get it out of my head so I started listening to the station to hear the song again and in doing that I heard so many other and, well, I like it. And Malfoy's don't really deprive themselves of things they want, so I just continued to listen to it."
"What was the song?"
Graces looked at Neville her eyes and face bespeaking her hesitance. "The Sound of Silence."
"Is that your favorite?"
"Umm," Neville watched as Graces thought about her answer. "No, I suppose not. I don't really have a favorite."
Neville couldn't help but smile. "Too many to choose from, huh?" Graces nodded awkwardly, clearly wanting the discussion to end. "I, umm, well I like muggle music too."
"I'm not surprised," Graces said, rolling her eyes, but Neville didn't hear any true coldness in her words and he saw a hint of a smile playing on the corner of her lips. A smile that she was clearly trying to shake off.
"Maybe when you tutor me, we can listen to music?"
Neville watched as Graces narrowed her eyes on him. "Am I still going to tutor you?"
"It's not really an option, now is it? You owe me a life debt."
"You're not going to turn me in?"
"Why would I tell you to leave me to die when I thought you had no antidote and let you drag me to a barn to save me instead of taking me to Pomfrey if I was planning on turning you in? I clearly am allowing you to play doctor to protect you."
Silver eyes looked over the water into brown ones. Neville felt exposed like the eyes looking at his were searching through his thoughts. He squirmed in the hot water and tried to focus on breathing regularly so that she wouldn't notice that he was uncomfortable with her looking at him. Then he realized how underdressed he was in front of her and was even more uncomfortable with her looking at him. He was just thankful that the water was so dark from potion and blood that she couldn't possibly see anything.
"I've seen everything anyways, no need to get bashful, Longbottom," Graces teased, smiling wickedly.
Neville blushed, but still squirmed a bit. "Do you know legilimency or something?"
Graces gave a smirk that resembled her brother's. "I do actually, I'm very skilled at it too." All the blood that was left in Neville seemed to go cold in his veins. "Not to worry, Longbottom, I have not invaded your privacy. Your mind is untouched. I just could tell what you were thinking based off you're squirming and putting your hands in front of you."
Neville let out a relieved sigh at that.
"Is there a reason you don't want me rummaging through your thoughts?"
"Would you want me rummaging through yours?"
"Answering a question with a question, how Slytherin of you, Mr. Longbottom," Graces complimented, smiling.
The sandy haired boy just smiled, unsure of what to say then, he could feel his face flushing with heat that was definitely not from the poison. Was Graces flirting with him? It seemed that way.
Graces seemed to have caught onto this as well because after a moment she shook her head, cleared her throat awkwardly and began to rummage through her bag, her face expressionless once again. She removed the spell that was holding Neville down and then held out a vile to him. "Here, drink this. It's blood replenishing potion. The antidote is great in that it saves you from a horrible death, awful in that it slowly drains away your blood with the potion."
Neville took the potion in hand and drained its contents, cringing at the oily texture and coppery taste. Graces took away the bottle and handed him a large piece of chocolate without making eye contact or saying a word. Neville murmured thanks and nibbled at the chocolate. He felt as though he were out of the woods. The pain was still there but it was nothing compared to earlier. The new blood flowing through his veins felt less tainted in his skin. He opened his mouth to tell Graces, so she would know all was going to be well, when his heart gave a leap in his chest before it started to burn like acid on skin.
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Graces cursed aloud when she saw Neville doubled over in pain again. She had thought they were out of the woods, she had thought that everything would be okay, and now watching Neville clutching his chest she realized that they were far from the end. She swung her leg over the trough and lifted herself so she was straddling the Gryffindor and holding his arms so his chest was open.
"Neville, I need you to listen to me." Neville looked up at her, his eyes squinting in pain, his jaw locked and teeth barred to prevent himself from screaming aloud, and Graces was relieved to see that his eyes still held the Gryffindor fire that she knew would keep him going. "I need to stab your heart with this muggle device. It's a needle that will put the potion directly in your heart and then I can use it to directly take the poison out."
"Oi! You want to stab me. STAB me in the heart?!"
"It's perfectly safe, muggles do it all the time, and—"
"That's barb—*grunt*—baric! How did you even—" Graces watched as Neville's pain increased. He was trying to fight, trying hard to be able to maintain a conversation with her and not sink into the pain, but she knew this resolve wouldn't last and that the poison had seeped into his heart. The little bit that survived the potion in the water would kill him.
"Listen to me, Longbottom, if you do not let me do this you will die. I know what I am doing. It all makes sense. Most people die from this poison because there is no way to get it out of the heart. The potion usually works externally; if I place it in your heart and use the syringe to suck the poison out you will be fine. This is your only option if you want to live."
Neville stared up at her the hesitation in his eyes almost tangible. Graces could tell that he didn't really understand what a syringe was, didn't understand how the potion worked or anything really, for that matter. He understood that she wanted to stab a vital organ and that was it. She knew what she would do if he still refused. She would body bind him and he would still probably struggle and there was a chance she really would injure him if that was the case, but it was still better than him dying.
He is not going to die. I will not let Neville Longbottom die by my hand.
"Okay."
Graces could feel her heart lifting at Neville's declaration. She quickly grabbed the needle and syringe out of her bag and dipped it into the water, gathering up some potion. She was about to plunge it down when Neville's hand was suddenly on her wrist.
"That is huge!"
Graces looked over at the long needle, realizing, by the blood that was now drained from Neville's face, that she just lost him. She cursed herself for not being wise enough to tell him to close his eyes.
"This? This little needle?" Graces smiled sickly, praying that she could coax Neville back to his earlier resolve.
"Come off it, Malfoy, you know that is not a little needle."
Oh, so I'm Malfoy again.
"You can't seriously tell me you're scared? Not you, a big fearless Gryffindor. This is just a thin little needle. It will be over in a moment. It is nothing compared to the pain from earlier, Longbottom, trust me."
"I barely qualify to be a Gryffindor!" Neville gasped, still holding Graces wrist firmly away from him. "I'm always frightened. I'm frightened just to speak in class. I have no idea what the sorting hat was doing putting me in Gryffindor!"
Graces stared at the boy writhing beneath her. She could not believe that Neville Longbottom didn't believe he belonged in Gryffindor. "My aunt told me about when she fought you at the ministry. How a Death Eater broke your nose, how she taunted you about your mum and dad, how you couldn't even say a spell properly, your wand was broke, and how you still tried desperately to fight her to save your friends. She laughed the whole time telling us. She thought it was wildly funny."
"Glad to know I brought humor to your dinner conversation," Neville said tightly through gritted teeth.
"She said it was the most pathetic attempt she ever saw at someone trying to do magic." Neville was staring daggers up at Graces and she knew he was getting angrier with each sentence. "Do you know what I thought?"
"I know what you thought," Neville spat defensively.
"I don't think you do," Graces said quietly, "Everyone was laughing about it. All around me people seemed to think you a big joke, but I just couldn't stop thinking how… how brave you must be. And then I witnessed how brave you were every time you were jumped in the bathrooms. I… I've never met anyone as brave as you, Longbottom. Harry Potter himself, who everyone deems the epitome of Gryffindor bravery, doesn't hold a candle to you. He might have the biggest battle ahead of him, but you, you fight your battle every single day. Every time someone trips you in the hallway or calls you cruel names, or even just facing Snape. I remember in third year he was your boggart. You faced your biggest fear every single day and no one even knew. Potter goes off into battle surrounded by friends but you go in alone."
Neville blinked a few times, and it wasn't just what Graces said that had made him calm down, it was the look in her eyes when she told him. Like she was still in awe over what he had done.
"Aunt Bella made fun of you for trying to mutter spells with a broken nose and I just couldn't stop thinking how courageous that was. You stood up to her. You put yourself between her wand and your friends when you knew there was nothing you could do. Knowing how insane she is, knowing that she wouldn't kill you quickly."
Neville let go of Graces wrist and closed his eyes, preparing himself for what was to come. The blonde stared at his chest for a moment and then, in a spur of a moment decision, she leaned in and kissed him. There was a mumbled grunt of surprise at first and then she felt arms fold around her as though they had been craving to hold her tight and Neville sat up, deepening the kiss and pulling her into him. Graces slowly pulled away from him and in one swift movement, while he was still slightly intoxicated from the kiss, she plunged the needle into his heart. Neville cursed aloud, but it was done and Graces pushed the antidote in and then pulled the syringe taking the toxins out of his heart.
"I'm sorry, but I had to catch you off guard." Neville was now laying back down, his eyes heavily lidded, unaware of the gentle hand caressing his forehead. "The worst of the poison is gone, you should rest now. Your magic will fight the rest, it will work alongside the antidote, and I'll be here. Just sleep through it, everything will be better by morning."
Graces watched as Neville slowly slipped into unconsciousness, more fearful than ever of what she had done. She wanted to lie and tell herself that she kissed Neville only to distract him, but even if she could lie to herself successfully about that, she couldn't deny how it made her feel to kiss him. After a few minutes, she got out of the water and, with a steadying breath, took out her wand to begin the final step of Neville's recovery.
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