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: A big thanks to both my betas AuthurDent2 and Denarii! I know holiday season is upon us and both of you have busy schedules, with more important things to do than edit my story, so it means the world to me that you both still find time every week to do so.

Special thanks to DamonSalvatorelover, Morgan Morai, Olli, Snakespur, Lizzy B, and obviously there is no way I could forget Phoenix and his monster review! Seriously though, thanks guys for always consistently reviewing!. I check my e-mail all day for your reviews.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it is more of a comic relief chapter so enjoy!

TIMELINE! PLEASE READ!

1st week of September

- Chapter one

3rd week of September

-Chapter two, three, and four.

~~~Chapter three was Neville and Graces' encounter in the Greenhouse.

4th week of September

-Chapter five, six, seven, and eight.

5th week of September

-Chapter nine and ten

***I wanted to give you all a timeline so you can see how quickly this is progressing and how that may terrify Graces. I think that it is easy to forget the time slots when you are waiting every week for a new chapter update.***

Chapter 11

Neville sat in the Great Hall surrounded by his fellow Gryffindors who were all chattering happily over their breakfast and enjoying their weekend. He should have felt comforted. He was sitting with his housemates, the sun was shining through the windows and everyone around him was content. It was just a normal Saturday. Yet it wasn't. He felt as though there were a dementor around him constantly and it was slowly sucking all happiness out of him. He couldn't even bring himself to pretend that he was okay and that everything was normal; it wasn't. Graces ran away from him. She had literally ran away from him. Neville would be the first to admit that he wasn't great with girls, but he at least knew that if a girl ran away from you it wasn't a good sign. How the hell am I ever going to make any headway with her if she runs away?! Neville groaned aloud and dropped his spoon with a heavy thud in his porridge as he cupped his face in his hands.

He felt a gentle hand touch his arm and looked up to see Hermione's brown eyes peering over a book at him. "Neville, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice laced with concern as she set her copy of Hogwarts: A History down.

Neville hesitated. He could just imagine how the conversation would go if he answered her truthfully. Well, you see, Hermione, I think I am falling for Graces. You know, Graces Malfoy. The girl whose father tried to kill us all in at the Ministry last year. You remember her father, right? Tall bloke, with long blonde hair, very aristocratic features, and has the Dark Mark on his arm. Yes, that man. Anyways, I guess you could say I've been sleeping with her. To get to the point though, yesterday I shagged her in an abandoned classroom and afterward she ran away. Well, no, I think a better word is sprinted. So now I am incredibly depressed because I think I am falling in love with her and she can't sit still for one moment so that I can find out!

"Nothing." Neville shrugged, picking up his spoon, eating some porridge and trying to act natural.

"Neville," Hermione deadpanned, giving him a knowing look. The look that said that she was not going to let him drop this.

"It's personal," Neville sighed, deciding that any reaction Hermione gave would not be the most encouraging one.

Hermione looked around for a moment, before leaning in close to him. "Is it… well, is it about Hannah?" she asked, biting her lip nervously. Neville saw all his housemates, minus Ron who was stuffing his face with eggs, look over at him for a moment at hearing Hannah's name, but they quickly went back to their breakfast when they saw Neville meet their eyes.

"No, it's not Hannah," Neville answered, making sure that the boys around him heard as well.

Hermione continued worrying her lip, "Are you sure, because she was telling me that you haven't asked her out again and she's worried—"

"I haven't asked her out again because I just don't see her that way," Neville interrupted, not at all liking where this conversation was going.

"I thought you two kissed?" Hermione pointed out confused. Neville cast Hermione a confused look. He certainly didn't tell anyone other than Pomfrey about his kiss with Hannah. Hermione pinked under Neville's stare and awkwardly began playing with a piece of her hair. "Hannah told me," she admitted quietly, "she really likes you, Neville."

The sandy haired boy started shifting awkwardly in his seat, unsure of what to do, but definitely not enjoying the situation unfolding. Neville had been trying to avoid the whole Hannah situation. He was hoping that if he didn't ask her out and only acted friendly towards her, she would see that he didn't see her that way without actually having to have an awkward talk that could potentially ruin their friendship. It was only one date. You don't have to have a 'I'm not into you talk' after only one date, do you? Harry and Cho had one date, and they didn't have some awkward talk about their relationship.

"Maybe you should give it another chance," Hermione suggested hopefully, taking Neville out of his thoughts.

Neville caught Lavender Brown looking over at him sideways from her conversation with Parvati and blushed. This was not the conversation he wanted to have in the middle of breakfast, surrounded by his housemates. And if he was being completely honest, he didn't feel that he was close enough to anyone to be having this discussion. It wasn't that he didn't trust Hermione or the guys he roomed with. It was just that none of them felt like his best friend. He didn't really have that. Dean and Seamus; Ron, Hermione, and Harry; Lavender and Parvati; Fred and George. You really couldn't think of one without thinking of the other. He didn't have someone like that, though. He had friends but not other halves. He was just Neville. There was no other person that came to mind when thinking of him, and this was definitely not a conversation he could have with just anyone.

"Hermione, can we talk about this later?" he murmured quietly, hoping that she would understand and let it rest.

Hermione nodded and went back to eating her breakfast, every once in a while sparing a worried glance his way. Neville ignored the looks and continued to act as though he were fine. He appreciated that Hermione was worried about him, he really did, but he really did not want to have to sit and listen to her advice as to what to do, because Hermione did not know him well enough to be offering him this advice. Yes, they had spent time together and she was very nice, but she didn't know him well enough to be telling him what girl he should be dating. I must be the only one who doesn't think Hannah is a good match for me. Neville wished that he did though, he wished that he liked sweet, friendly, warm Hannah and not stubborn, cold Graces. He looked up from the table across the hall to see Graces sitting with Draco. A small smile on her lips as she buttered her toast and her brother talked in her ear with a wide grin about something. Well, stubborn yes, but not always cold. Neville wanted to hit his head against the table. He was smitten and he knew it. Despite what a pain in the arse Graces could be, he wanted her.

The usual assortment of owls came swarming the Great Hall, delivering packages and letters from home, the Daily Prophet and in some cases The Quibbler. Neville looked up, hoping to see his Gran's owl somewhere in the sea of feathers, and was surprised to instead see a giant eagle owl flying gracefully towards him. The unfamiliar owl hovered above him waiting for the rush of the other mail-carrying owls to finish. It seemed to not want to be a part of the crowd of owls that were dropping packages, delivering letters and eating off students' plates before heading back to the owlery. When the rest of the herd finally cleared, it swooped down in front of Neville and held out its leg. It was an odd owl. It seemed almost to despise the other owls' behavior. It seemed determined to act with more dignity. It stood completely still, awaiting Neville to take the letter. Neville clumsily untied the letter and the owl seemed to bristle with irritation at his fumbling hands.

"Sorry," Neville mumbled, pinking a bit with embarrassment at feeling nervous with a bird. The creature just gave a snippish hoot in reply, which did not make Neville feel any better. When the sandy haired boy finally managed to get his letter off the magnificent bird he took a piece of sausage off his plate and held it out. The owl just ignored Neville's gesture and lifted its head away from the sausage, its beak high in the air. Embarrassed at being rejected by a bird, Neville looked down at the envelope.

'To Mr. Neville Alastor Longbottom (Heir of the Longbottom line)' was elegantly scripted on the envelope. Neville was a little impressed by the look of his name. It was so formal and adult, written down so elegantly with his title.

"Heir," Dean said, wrinkling his nose, "That's a bit much, isn't it? Heir? Is that a thing?"

"It's a thing," Neville answered patiently, well aware that most of his housemates were not pureblood or those sorts of formalities no longer mattered in their families. "It's a pureblood thing mostly, but it is a very important title still. It's incorrect, though. I am actually already the patriarch. My great uncle Algie passed me the title over the summer."

"What does it mean, to be the patriarch?" It was now Harry inquiring.

Neville smiled wryly, he thought of reminding Harry that he was in fact a patriarch, but that would also be reminding him of his lack of family. "Nothing really," Neville lied, wanting to make the morning dreary for his friend.

"That's not true, Neville," Hermione chided in, sitting up at the table as everyone looked at her. "Neville, as the patriarch, would be in charge of making important decisions regarding his family. One of those decisions including where his whole family stands on the war. It's really a great honor, your Uncle could have held the title until you came completely of age or graduated Hogwarts."

Neville looked around at his housemates all watching him. He didn't tell anyone about his standing in his family, because in reality it didn't matter that much. That kind of stuff just wasn't important in Gryffindor. He really wished everyone wasn't looking at him. A soft tapping is what saved him any further questions on the subject. The owl was still perched in front of him and now had begun to drum it's long talons on the wood of the table so they could hear its impatience.

"I guess it's waiting for a reply," Neville said sheepishly, turning his attention to the blue and silver waxed seal. It was then that he realized that the crest was the Malfoy crest and thus this was a Malfoy bird. "Figures you would be a Malfoy," he grumbled under his breath.

"A Malfoy?" Ron exclaimed, now looking at the bird as though it had grown two heads. "What is a Malfoy writing to you about?"

"I don't know," Neville shrugged, " I haven't read it yet."

Neville broke the seal and looked down at the letter. He let out a snort at seeing that Graces had formal stationery for writing. The back of the paper water colored with the Malfoy crest and her monogram GBM was impressed onto the envelope. "What does the B stand for?" Dean inquired, looking over Neville's shoulder.

Neville looked over at his friend and noted that the rest of the group seemed curious as well. He really wished that he did not somehow become the center of everyone's attention. Especially now that he saw the letter was from Graces.

"Bellatrix." He tried to say it like the name didn't matter, like her middle name was Lynn and not the most feared witch of the age and also the woman that tortured his parents into insanity. The reason he was the patriarch now and not his own father.

"After her aunt?" Harry asked, his eyes widening.

Neville nodded. "Must be."

"How did you find out her middle name, Neville?" Hermione asked frowning at the envelope.

Neville pinked. "Well... when she was hurt Pomfrey was asking her questions to keep her awake and, well, one of them was what her full name was."

"Pomfrey let you stay with her?" Hermione continued, eyeing him suspiciously. She's not eyeing you suspiciously, you're just being paranoid.

"Yes, she did. She needed help. Anyways, I really should read this letter." Neville knew he was being snappish, but he couldn't seem to bring himself out of the bad mood that Graces had put him in the night before and he also didn't really like being under his house's eye. Please let this letter be good news.

Longbottom,

I have evaluated the test that I gave you yesterday and we will go over the results before we begin our first potions assignment together. Please be prompt at meeting me at seven tonight. Enclosed in the letter is stationary. Please write me back promptly so that I know that this time and place is convenient to you. Do not forget your potion supplies.

Regards,

G. Malfoy

Neville sat staring at the letter almost trembling with fury. Longbottom? Regards? Not even a tiny hint of friendliness. And to top it all off there was no apology or explanation for her behavior the night before. She just runs off and once again is going to pretend nothing happened nothing at all. Who did she think she was anyways? She certainly didn't listen to him when he was calling after her last night. Why should he just do what she wants? Especially when she can't even give him the courtesy of talking to him after they were intimate?

"No reply," Neville stated firmly, to the owl that was waiting motionlessly for his response. Neville turned back to his porridge and was about to take a bite when the blank stationery that was provided for him was pushed into his lap. He looked up to see the owl staring him in the eye, it's long sharp black talons reached out on the table from pushing the stationary.

"I don't think that owl is going to take no reply for an answer, mate," Ron commented, eyeing the bird with dislike. "I think you have to reply."

Neville clenched his jaw for a moment before slowly taking the stationary off his lap and setting it down politely before the bird. "No reply," he repeated slowly, pushing the stationary forward. The owl stared him down for a moment, completely unmoving, and then in one swift movement clipped Neville's hand with his beak drawing blood.

"OW!" Neville shrieked, jumping away from the bird and off the bench, causing him to tumble down on his backside hard against the stone floor. People from all houses were now looking over at the clumsy Gryffindor. The owl was perched on his knees, it's long claws digging through his trousers, pressing into his skin as a warning as it held out the stationary to him. Neville looked around embarrassed as everyone waited to see what he would do. He slowly picked himself off the ground mortified at all the eyes on him and this beast of a bird. He looked over to the Slytherin table to see Graces pretending to read and hide her bemusement over her owl. She wasn't doing a great job of it.

Neville pursed his lips, ripped the stationary away from the owl, before sitting down in his seat with an annoyed thump.

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Graces knew that she should not at all be amused with what Loki was doing to Neville, but she was. None of this of course was intended. She never in a million years thought that Neville would not reply to her letter. She actually thought he would jump at the chance to respond to it, so she had told Loki to wait for a reply. Now in hindsight that had been a mistake. And when the owl saw that she had provided the stationary for the reply he probably took Neville's lack of response as a great insult. And Loki was not a bird to allow his mistress to be insulted.

"I don't think I have ever loved that bird more than I do in this moment," Draco declared, a cool smile on his lips as he continued to watch the scene before him.

Graces sighed as she watched Loki snatch the letter out of Neville's fingers and swoop forward causing him to jump and stumble back. Neville had every right to be upset with her. She could admit that. she had panicked last night and ran away like a child. Neville not responding to her letter was probably the least of what she deserved.

"He is a loyal owl, isn't he?" Graces commented, watching Loki soar up through the Great Hall.

"Yes, he is," Draco agreed, as the bird gracefully fluttered down and spread its wings bowing to its master and mistress. Graces looked up to see Neville scowling at the scene, but she ignored him and gently pet the bird before her. What could she do? She couldn't punish Loki for being loyal to her, he didn't know that Neville had a right to be mad at her. Draco made to take the envelope, but the bird immediately picked up and moved to Graces side. Draco frowned puzzled.

"I told him that only I was to receive the letter," Graces admitted, trying to sound casual. She didn't know if Neville would have written anything in the letter about last night, she thought for sure he would at least demand an explanation. So in the end, she felt that it was best if she kept their exchange private.

"Why would you do that?" Draco asked eyeing her quizzically, clearly not liking the idea of her keeping anything from him.

"Well you see, Draco, Longbottom and I are having a very passionate affair and I don't want people knowing about it," Graces said casually, now opening the letter.

Draco laughed and reached out to take Loki. He was so pleased with the bird for the morning show he actually allowed him to perch on his shoulder and be fed from his plate. The bird made no note of enthusiasm, but Graces and Draco knew that it was exceptionally pleased at being on its master's shoulder like this. Malfoys very rarely allowed their animals to do so and they certainly never fed them off their own plate. This was a great honor for the post owl.

With her brother completely distracted Graces had the opportunity to read the letter, taking a cool swig of pumpkin juice. Graces was thankful that the Slytherin table was still chattering loudly about the scene, or she would have been mortified because what was written on the letter had caused her such surprise that she had choked on her own drink.

Gasping for breath and trying desperately to just pretend she was coughing she read the letter again.

G. Malfoy,

The time and place you are requesting indeed are convenient for me. I will be sure to be there at seven sharp and have all the materials on hand that you have requested. Also, if you are going to refer to me by my title you should use the correct one. I am the patriarch for my family now.

Regards,

N. Longbottom

P.S. I still have your knickers from last night.

P.P.S. You are a prat.

Graces quickly vanished the letter and looked up to see Neville giving her a very pompous smirk taking a sip of his own pumpkin juice after he raised his goblet to her. She turned and held out her arm to Loki. The bird jumped from her brother to her arm and she gently ran her hand over its cheek.

"You should have bit him harder," Graces murmured, smiling when the bird seemed to give her a quizzical look. "Next time. I have a feeling you will be delivering quite a few letters to Mr. Longbottom." The bird gave a hoot that sounded very much like an exasperated sigh that made Graces laugh gleefully.

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Neville still was very much upset with the prissy blonde sitting across the courtyard from him, gossiping endlessly with Parkinson. He wished she would turn around so that she could see him glaring daggers into the back of her head, but she had not even looked his way since breakfast.

"Neville."

Neville turned and looked over to see Hermione's brown eyes looking at him with some uncertainty. He forced a small smile. "I'm sorry, I keep getting distracted. You were talking about why obliviation spells should be considered unforgivable right?"

"No, I was just hoping I could talk to you about Hannah now," Hermione confessed, giving him a look.

"Oh," Neville let his smile drop and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I really would rather not talk about it, Hermione."

Hermione bit her lip. "But.. I don't understand. Hannah would be perfect for you. She's sweet and gentle, she loves herbology, you two are so comfortable around one another and she said that you kissed. I don't understand why you wouldn't want to pursue more with her."

Neville sighed, not really wanted to tell Hermione all of the reasons why, but knowing by the determined look in her eyes that he wasn't getting out of it. "There was, well, there was no spark."

"No spark," Hermione repeated skeptically.

"Yeah, no spark," Neville confirmed, blushing slightly.

Hermione rolled her eyes at her friend, "Neville there is no such thing as a spark. People don't have fireworks go off just from a kiss, that's just fairy tales. You are never going to kiss someone and just magically feel something."

The sandy haired boy looked over at the girl sitting next to him and scowled. "There is such a thing," he proclaimed defiantly, remembering what it was like to kiss Graces. "You just have never experienced it. It's... it's life changing to kiss someone and feel all that they are and all they could be with you. To feel your body float, even though you know you are firmly on the ground. To feel your inner being respond to them with so much want and need that you never knew you had. It's wondrous," Neville finished quietly, looking out at nothing and then bringing himself back and meeting Hermione's eyes. "And I can't be with Hannah when I've had that. It wouldn't be right."

Hermione was now scowling at her friend. "Who did you have that with?" she asked in surprise.

"That's private."

"Well, did whoever you kissed feel that when she kissed you?"

Neville halted and glanced over to where Graces was. She was now laying down lazily on the grass looking up into a tree. "I.. uh, I don't know."

"Maybe it was just lust." Neville glared at Hermione for making such an implication. "It could very well be lust, Neville. Our bodies react when we are attracted to people. What you felt may not have been magical, but physiological."

"Well then, maybe I would rather be with a girl that my body reacts to then," Neville clipped cooly, picking up a herbology book he had been reading for fun.

"Neville Longbottom!" Hermione hissed scandalized, before quickly putting her head down so as not to draw attention to them. "How could you say something so vulgar! There are more important things in a girl than that."

"Tell me, Hermione, what is the major difference between a guy you like as a good friend and the guy you like romantically?"

Hermione being able to sense where this was going tried to protest that there was more than just physical attraction.

"More than just physical, but physical is definitely a part of it. The reason you don't think of Harry the same way you think of Ron."

"Neville!" Hermione was almost as red as a tomato from blushing. She looked around, clearly trying to see if anyone had heard. "Ron is just a friend, one of my best friends. I don't harbor any of those feelings towards him."

Neville rolled his eyes. "Hermione, everyone knows, but my point is there is a difference. It's probably that difference that is the reason why you two fight so passionately as well. It's not only physical its chemical. My point being that Hannah and I do not have good chemistry. She's very pretty, but she doesn't spark anything in me."

Hermione still did not seem to want to accept what Neville was saying, but, before she could protest, Harry and Ron showed up. Neville decided that this was a good time to escape and excused himself from the group, pointedly ignoring Hermione's glare as he walked away.

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Make sure to follow/review!! If you all are curious to learn more about Graces you will definitely appreciate the next chapter.