Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Graces Malfoy & Thomas Higgs, who are 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 very special thanks to my betas Arthurdent2 and Denarii for editing this chapter!

Special thanks to :Slytherin99, spannieren, TrueColorsNeverFade, rose, rusher13101, Phoenix, noone297, and Marie for their reviews!

Also, Marie, I am so glad you are enjoying the story and that mine is the first you have made an effort to continue reading. I shall try not to disappoint ;)

Chapter 19

Neville stepped into the silent classroom once again. It was odd how this room was beginning to feel to him; it made him nervous and excited all at once. Each time he entered this room he had no idea what he should be expecting. Granted, often times it was far from what he would have wanted, but today, for the first time ever, he felt like his meeting with Graces was going to be wonderful. He looked to the front of the room to see Graces staring hesitantly at him.

"I really liked the book," Neville began, nervously pulling the object out of his bag and walking towards the girl. "It was a lot better than Romeo and Juliet, in my opinion. I really liked that one quote.. umm.. 'Brevity is the source of wit.'" Graces nodded solemnly, and Neville, unsure of what to make of the nod, continued. "I can see why you particularly would like it: revenge, corruption, questions of morality, of death." Neville was now standing so that he was directly in front of Graces. Her back was pressed hard against the desk as though she wanted to escape from him, but refused to move. He continued to look at her, willing her to say something, but she didn't. She just stood against the desk. "One quote in particular reminded me of you though."

"Oh?" Graces was trying to sound casual, but her voice broke at the simple phrase.

"'God hath given you once face, and you make yourself another.'"

"'One may smile, and smile, and be a villain,'" Graces said breathlessly, as she turned her face away from him. Neville watched as her throat moved and she swallowed the emotions she must have been holding.

"Do you think I'm a villain?" Neville asked quietly.

Graces didn't answer, but her body began trembling. Neville, bent down so that he was now the one looking up at her silver gleaming eyes. "It can't easy, pretending to be someone you're not."

"Maybe this is who I am," the blonde said tightly, making to move away, but being stopped by Neville's hand taking hers.

"I don't believe I have seen half of who you are," Neville surmised, now standing tall again, but still clinging to the Graces hand. "And I don't believe anyone else has seen even that. Please Graces, let me know you. If not for me, that at least for yourself. Don't you want someone in this world to know who you are?"

There was a brief pause as Graces seemed to be actually turning Neville's words in her head. As Neville held on to her hand, he began to have this gleam of hope that Graces would let her guard down and accept what he was offering, but as quickly as the hope came, Graces whipped it and her hand away.

"Draco knows who I am," she proclaimed defiantly. "Draco knows me."

Neville held up the book. "He knows about this and the music?"

Graces' face pinked, and her eyes moved around nervously. "I think he knows… he just chooses to ignore it," she admitted quietly, no longer meeting Neville's eyes.

"I won't turn away, Graces," Neville promised, stepping closer to her, gently grasping her shoulders. "I won't ignore anything about you to make you more appealing, because I truly want to know you."

Neville could tell it was taking Graces a great amount of effort to not run away at that very moment. He could feel her body trembling in protest to his touch, and see the immense amount of fear that she had in her eyes as she looked up into his. "I'm not good at this," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"At being seen?" Neville asked, caressing her face, before moving his hands down and wrapping them securely around her. Graces nodded and closed her eyes at the touch, clearly not ready to let her guard down yet. "I know it's scary, but just try."

He felt Graces bring her hand up to the middle of her torso and clutch something there. Neville had a feeling it was the necklace he gave her. "I can't betray you without betraying myself… and my friends," Neville added, still a bit unsettled. " Should I ever betray you, you would learn everything I knew about Harry and Ron."

"I would?" Graces questioned, now taking the necklace out and looking down at it.

"Yeah," Neville sighed, "You would. I almost didn't give it to you for just that reason."

"What made you give it to me, then?" Graces asked frowning, still clutching the necklace tightly in her hands.

"I know I will never betray you," Neville vowed, trying to put as much conviction as he could muster in that one word.

Graces stood quiet for a long while after that; Neville tried to remain as still as possible afraid that any movement might scare her away. There was tangible tension in the room. Everything was hanging in the air around them. If Graces just made a slight effort to let her walls down it could open the gates of heaven, but if in this moment she chose not to, Neville knew she never would and he would forever be cemented just right outside.

"I am going to be a Death Eater."

Neville ignored the sick feeling that welled in his chest at Graces' statement. She said it as such a fact that he had a feeling that this was something that was already decided, something that was already in the process of becoming true.

"I figured as much," he said, trying hard to sound as though the thought of her bowing to that man did not make him want to be sick.

"Then why—"

"Because you are so much more than a pawn that is being played by a psychopath, and I can remember that."

"You can remember that after I slaughter your friends?" Graces asked, moving away from Neville, her face showing her own bitterness. "You can think of me as you do now, with the knowledge that I was the one that ripped them away from you? Or even when my own wand is pointed at you? No one else's life holds more meaning to me than Draco's. I would kill you without a moments hesitation if it meant my brother's heart would beat with life for an hour longer."

There would have been a time where Graces' proclamation would have done exactly what she wanted it to do. Make him think she was nothing more than an evil, vile girl, or frighten him into leaving her alone, but Neville knew that Graces was telling him all this to frighten him. This was her way to try and wake him up from whatever delusion he might have of her. Neville knew that there was some truth in what she was saying, but not in all of it. While she would be willing to kill for Draco, he doubted it would come so easily for her. The whole time she ranted he saw her hands were shaking and he had a feeling that it was not from the rage she was trying to present to him.

"Will you cry at my funeral, Miss Malfoy?" Neville asked, smiling, reminding the girl in front of him of their first night together in the greenhouse when he had asked that very same question.

Graces stared at him for a moment, and Neville saw her barriers slowly come down.

"This is mad." Neville felt as though he were standing on the edge of a cliff about to fall, waiting for Graces to say more. "I'm still not your girlfriend, but I suppose we can try at a friendship. Not a normal friendship though," she added quickly. "It's still mostly about sex, and we're only friends in private. When we are out in front of people, I hate you. No one can know, Longbottom, do you understand?"

Neville couldn't even hide his excitement. He grinned broadly, and before Graces could start listing off more rules of their relationship, he lifted her up and was kissing her. Graces let out a small eep of surprise, before demanding to be put down.

Neville, still grinning widely, obliged, setting Graces down softly on the stone steps. "Gryffindors," she muttered, rolling her eyes and patting off imaginary dust. "Can never contain yourselves, can you? No self control."

"Yes, it is one of our most charming qualities." Graces gave him a glare, and turned away towards the desk, but Neville still caught the small smile she hid.

"Is Hamlet your favorite?" Neville asked, walking over to where Graces was pulling supplies out of her bag.

"No, not my favorite," Graces said, taking out her cauldron and setting it down on the fire. Neville stood, looking at her, waiting for her to elaborate. "I suppose I like a A Midsummer Night's Dream."

"What's that one about?"

"Longbottom," Graces growled, "we do have to work on potions today. I have barely taught you anything as it is."

"We can talk and work at the same time," Neville shrugged, taking out his parchment and quill.

"No, we really can't. You're awful at this, so you need to concentrate." Graces gave Neville a scolding look. "We're making a boil potion today."

Neville narrowed his eyes at Graces for a moment. "You're kidding me." Graces just smirked as she took out dried nettles, snake fangs, and horned slugs.

"Do you remember what the last ingredient is, Mr. Longbottom?" she asked sweetly.

"Porcupine quills," Neville deadpanned sorely, remembering the last time he had made the potion.

"Exactly," Graces chimed smiling, "and when do we add the porcupine quills?"

"After the cauldron is taken off the fire."

"Very good," Graces praised, her voice sounding like overly sweet honey. "And what happens, Mr. Longbottom, if the brewer should add the quills before taking the cauldron off the fire? Oh, Longbottom, don't look so piqued with me. I'm trying to help."

Neville huffed and closed his eyes; trying hard not to look as humiliated as he felt. "The cauldron will melt, and the potion will explode, causing anyone who comes into contact with it to have very painful boils. It also smells awful."

"Perfect!" Graces cried, actually jumping with excitement at his answer.

"Enjoying my humility, are you?" Neville asked impassively, as Graces took out the quills.

She smiled, but ignored the question. "And what, Mr. Longbottom, are the characteristics of the potion when brewed correctly?"

Neville frowned for a moment. "Uh... I... I don't know..."

"Exactly, because you have only brewed this potion incorrectly," Graces chided. "Today you are going to brew it correctly, and you will tell me after it is brewed what you noticed about it's characteristics."

Neville nodded and began to work on the potion. "This is a first year potion."

"I am aware," Graces said. "That isn't a fine enough powder, Longbottom, the fangs need to be crushed more with the pestle."

Neville nodded and continued crushing the snake fangs. "You're starting me on first year's work?"

"It's not to humiliate you," Graces promised, examining the powder more before nodding at Neville to continue on to the next part. "While you botching this potion remains, to this day, one of the funniest things I have ever witnessed, I am not making you redo this to bring up sore memories for you. It's so that you can see where you go wrong. Potions takes a lot of patience and preciseness. It's an art, you Gryffindors are much too impatient for it most of the time. For example, right now you should be paying close attention to your cauldron and not to me. The instructions say heat to 250 for ten seconds. TEN seconds, Longbottom. No more, no less. Your potion is about to reach 250 so pay attention before you miss the time slot."

Neville did as she said, and waved his wand muttering the stabilizing incantation exactly ten seconds after the potion reached 250. "It says to wait 33 to 45 minutes now," Neville read, checking his watch. Graces nodded and looked down at the greenish potion.

"Great, during that time you should detail everything that you have done so far; along with everything you notice about the potion."

Neville nodded and began dictating out loud his description of the potion thus far."It's bubbling and is green….like a bogey."

"You sound like Draco," Graces giggled. "He said the same thing to me first year when we made this potion. He had me giggling all through class."

"And here I thought you two were just giggling at me being tortured by Snape," Neville smiled.

"Well, that too," Graces admitted offhandedly.

"It's odd hearing you talk about your brother," Neville said shyly. "Like, I see why you talk about him so much, but it's hard to hear about him being this warm kind person, when he's usually the biggest—"

"Careful, Longbottom," Graces chided, a playful smile on her lips. "We're edging on a friendship here, but if you say something rude about my brother, I'll be forced to kill you."

The Gryffindor chuckled at the threat. "Your brother is a git." Neville jumped as a Graces sent a stinging hex on him, but still couldn't help but laugh. Even Graces seemed to find the situation amusing judging by the small smile on her lips.

"Draco isn't a git. He's a very different person in private, and I couldn't have asked for a more devoted brother."

"He does seem to watch you like hawk," Neville commented, thinking of how many times he had seen Draco look over at Graces during the day. It was as though he felt if he didn't keep an eye on her something dreadful would happen. "It's a bit odd, Ron is a protective brother, but he seems to give Ginny more space than Draco gives you."

"Draco was raised differently," Graces said simply. "While Ron was raised as just a son, Draco was raised to be the heir to our family. Part of being an heir, as you know I am sure, is taking care of your family. I think my parents used me as a tool to teach him that. I, from the day we were born, have been Draco's responsibility, as well as my parents'."

"How does that work?" Neville asked frowning.

"Oh, simple things at first," Graces mused. She then grinned and began imitating, what Neville assumed to be her father's voice. "'Watch your sister, Draco,' 'Hold your sister's hand, Draco,' 'Don't let her out of your sight, Draco,' 'Draco, you shouldn't have let her do that,' 'Don't be so rough when playing.' As we got older it became more serious. My father would tell him about how as the heir he was responsible for me. That it would be his job to ensure I was always taken care of. "

"That sounds awful," Neville frowned.

"Oh, Draco loved it. He always liked acting like a big boy and telling me what to do, but not in a super bossy way. He's always been a loving brother. I was his to take care of, his living, breathing doll. He would fly under me when we got our first brooms incase I fell, and would always hold his arm out for me when our parents had banquets, never leaving my side. You should have seen him when I started dating!" Graces exclaimed. "For the first year I was with Nott he insisted on chaperoning anytime we were together!"

"And you didn't throw a fit over that?"

"No of course not," Graces said laughing. "I love Draco. He just wants what's best for me, and I love spending time with him."

Neville just chuckled. "Well, I am glad he isn't chaperoning you nowadays."

"Are you now, Mr. Longbottom?" Graces asked, moving closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. Neville nodded as he felt a familiar heat start to spread through him. Graces moved her hands to his chest, and began running them up so that she was now hanging on his neck, pulling him down so he was close to her delicious mouth. "And why would you be glad about that?"

"So I can kiss you," Neville murmured, before pulling Graces into him and doing just that. Neville loved kissing the girl in his arms, his whole body seemed to come alive from just touching his lips to hers, and the sounds she made were enough to drive everything else out of his head. He groaned loudly in protest when she gently pushed him away and reminded him they had a potion to finish. He grudgingly released his hold on Graces, and continued to add the horned slugs and removed the cauldron off the fire. Graces then handed him the two quills which he tossed in half heartedly, before he started stirring.

"STOP! You're left handed." Neville frowned and nodded, still not motioning to do anything more with the potion. "No wonder you mess up so often. You're about to stir counter clockwise, you have to stir clockwise. If the potion doesn't specify counter clockwise then it is assumed you will stir clockwise, but you're left handed so you just read stir five times and don't even think about it."

"You know, Hermione and Snape have seen me do potions before and none of them have ever explained that to me. I don't even know if Hermione knows it matters. She's right handed, so she never has to think twice about it, I suppose."

"Snape should have noticed," Graces frowned, watching Neville finish the potion correctly. "He's your teacher and he watches you like a hawk in class. He should have seen why you were making the mistake. You assumed it just meant stir when it gave no direction and, being left handed, you stirred in the direction that was comfortable. He should have caught that first year."

Neville was about to make a nasty comment about Snape, but stopped himself. People tended to love their head of house. He wouldn't allow anyone to say anything awful about McGonagall, and he imagined Graces wouldn't want anything said about Snape.

"Maybe you're a better teacher."

He was relieved to see Graces smile at the comment and not go defensive. "I am. Snape is a true potions master, he is brilliant, but he isn't big on teaching unless the student is as passionate as himself. Now, what do you notice about the potion when done correctly?"

Neville looked down into the cauldron. "It's blue and there is pink smoke."

"Gold star for you, Mr. Longbottom. That is how you brew a boil potion correctly."

They both smiled at eachother for a moment, before Graces cleared her throat awkwardly and turned to pack everything up. "I should go now, Draco will be waiting for me."

Neville nodded and helped her clear the table. "Thanks again, for tutoring me and all," he said pulling his bag onto his shoulders.

Graces shrugged. "You're not supposed to thank me for a life debt, Longbottom."

Neville shrugged, and started walking with Graces to the door. "You can call me Neville, you know."

Graces flushed, and played with the strap of her bag. "I prefer Longbottom."

"But we are friends now, aren't we?" Neville asked, pausing at the door.

"I guess," Graces admitted, continuing not to meet Neville's eyes. "I don't know. Not yet I guess, but I am willing to try to be. Even then we're only friends in private though. It's not like with Blaise and Pansy… Higgs and I are friends, and I still barely use his given name. It's a bit too intimate for me I suppose."

Neville nodded, not wanting to push Graces too much. "Oh!" he exclaimed, going back in his bag and pulling out the book. "I should give this back to you now that I've finished."

"Oh," Graces blushed, and gently pushed the book away from her "It's yours... I, umm, got it for you… That's why I was late to detention; I was waiting for Loki to deliver it…"

"I see," Neville surmised, a bit shocked that Graces went to all that trouble. "Thank you."

Graces nodded passively. "It's nothing."

Neville frowned. "It's not nothing, Graces, it's—"

"It's not like the necklace you gave me," she interrupted, looking down, her hand going to the spot where the trinket was lying under her blouse. "I really appreciate that you did that," she said softly. "It's lovely too. I… I can't even imagine how you afforded it."

"Family heirloom," Neville shrugged. "No one has worn it in ages. It's supposed to be used for alliances, but I figured I'd like you to have it."

When she looked up Neville was smiling tenderly at her; she felt her cheeks flush and wished that he would stop. "I need to go, I'll see you in Herbology." She moved to go to the door, but before she could exit Neville had pulled her back and was gently kissing her. He lingered for a moment, his lips hovering near hers while she stared up into his hazel eyes.

"Tomorrow then. Goodnight, Graces." And with that he whisked out of the room before Graces could say anything to ruin the moment. He could tell that she was starting to retreat away from him, that the intimacy was getting to be too much for her Malfoyness to tolerate. So when he decided to kiss her softly, in a more romantic than carnal way, he knew that he should book it out of that room as fast as possible before Graces said/did anything to ruin it.

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Okay, guys so things are going to start taking off now that Graces and Nev are a bit established ;) 20 and 21 are two of my personal favorites and I can't wait to have them posted for you! This was a bit of a slow chapter, but it is definitely needed and you will see why in 21!

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