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: Shout out to my betas Denarii and ArthurDent2 for editing this chapter!

Special thanks to: galyardt, ToxicCrackerz, xXDaniLynnXx, May, noone297, Phoenix, Snakespur, spannieren, Olli, the-compulsive-tea-drinker, Lil Miss Sunshine14, Goomy Goom, and rusher13101 for the reviews!

Also, I have now reached over 100 followers! I can't tell you how exciting this was for me, thanks to those who have favorited and followed me!

Snakespur: You owe me five bucks ;)

Olli this is for you! You asked for a closet scene and I have delivered ;)

Chapter 21

The last thing Neville expected when he was in the dark broom closet was for Graces to have thrust him up against the wall, kissing him feverishly. He had only a moment to realize who it was before she was pressed up against him, hungrily kissing his lips and weaving her hands through his once nicely parted hair. It didn't take him long though to begin passionately kissing her back.

As the snogging became more heated, Neville pulled Graces closer and turned her so that she was now the one against the wall. The blonde let out an excited giggle as Neville began trailing kisses down her neck, his hand wandering up from her hip to her rib cage.

"Something funny, Miss Malfoy?" Neville grinned against her mouth.

"Of course not, Mr. Longbottom," Graces stated with false seriousness, moving her hands down his chest towards his belt. "I was just thinking of how extremely sexy it is when you take control."

Neville closed his eyes as Graces' hands went farther than his belt, barely caressing him over his trousers, causing his breath to hitch and a low moan to admit from hi, as she then began nibbling at his ear.

"You like it when I take control, huh?" Neville asked, his head swimming from the things he was feeling.

"Mmmhmm," Graces hummed against his neck, where she began planting open mouth kisses. "Nothing is hotter than a man who knows what he wants."

Unable to take the teasing any longer, Neville captured Graces' lips in his own and kissed her in ways he was sure told her exactly what he wanted. And to make his point come across crystal clear, he pressed her hand more firmly against himself before moving his own up her skirt where he teasingly began caressing her bare hip.

"Two can play that game, Mr. Longbottom," Graces purred, moving her hand away from where Neville wanted it and to his hip where she slipped her finger under his belt. Teasing him as she moved it from side to side.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Neville smiled, moving the end of Grace's underwear down, and slowly making his way between her legs.

Graces closed her eyes and let out a delicious moan as Neville began his endeavors. He watched as her head tilted upward and her breathing quickened, making him—if possible—more turned on by the experience. Even in the dark he was could see her face: her pink lips moving in silent moans, her skin beginning to glow from a mixture of heat and sweat, and her cheeks pinking in excitement.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, in awe of the creature before him. "So beautiful," he whispered, now kissing the side of her mouth and moving towards her collarbone. He felt Graces' hand move from his side to the inside of his pants. He now was the one whose breath was increasing as she began stroking him slowly.

Neville was just about to begin taking the rest of Graces clothes off so he could properly enjoy her, when the blonde stopped kissing him and moved her hand out from his trousers.

"We better head to class now," she decided, pulling her panties back up and grabbing her bag.

"Wh-what? You're joking, right?" Neville cried, not at all liking that idea at all.

"We're already late," Graces giggled, smoothing her hair.

Neville didn't have a clue what to say, he just stood there mouth open, completely astonished at what Graces was doing.

"But… but…" Neville sputtered, "what was the point of this, then?"

Graces raised an elegant eyebrow and smirked. "I wanted to make sure you were thinking about me today," she shrugged, "and I had been dying to kiss you all through class."

"There should be laws about doing this sort of things to blokes," Neville groaned. "You can't seriously be leaving me like this."

Graces giggled and moved closer to the Gryffindor, kissing him longingly on the lips. "Girls do this all the time to blokes," she said seductively against him, "The difference is that I am going to let you have me as many times as you want tonight, whereas many guys just have to settle for snogging sessions and heavy petting with their girls, going back to their dorms sexually frustrated for months before getting further."

Neville pulled Graces in closer to him and began kissing her heatedly. "Skip class," he begged, "Let me thank you now. I swear I'll make it worth your while."

Graces gently pushed Neville away, giving him an apologetic smile.

"Can't," she maintained. "Tonight, I promise."

"You're wicked," Neville groaned, rubbing his palms down his face. "Never believed you to be pure evil until this moment, but the rumors are true."

Graces laughed vibrantly at the statement before kissing Neville on the cheek and heading towards the door. "Tonight, I promise. I'll show you all kinds of wicked things," she teased with a wink, before heading out the door.

"Minx," Neville called out playfully as the door shut.

Despite Neville's new level of sexual frustration, he still found himself smiling when he entered his next class, though he entered it extremely late. Luckily, he wasn't in trouble as Hermione had taken it upon herself to tell their Professor that Neville had to talk to Professor Sprout for some reason after class. As Neville left Muggle Studies, he still had no idea how electricity worked. Graces had accomplished exactly what she set out to do. He thought of her the whole time, as well as fantasized continuously of what he planned on doing later that night.

Throughout the rest of the day Graces Malfoy had been the inadvertent cause of him daydreaming in Transfiguration, almost walking off the moving staircase in the halls, leaving his bag in the library and heading over to the wrong class. Luckily, most people just chalked all his mistakes up to his personality and not to the real reason, which was that he was edging beyond smitten with a girl whose father wanted to kill him just a few months ago.

Part of him, the annoyingly logical part, said that he needed to slow down, that fancying Graces and… and doing what he was doing were two very different things. One was harmless, and the other one was… well, was. Point being that at the moment he felt like he was falling down an abyss. An abyss that he had chosen to fall down, one that he had stood on the edge of and consciously decided to step off. The problem was that when he had stepped off that edge, he had thought he would have a long ways to fall, but the more Neville got to know Graces the more he realized the ground was closer than he thought. The mad part of all this was, Neville couldn't wait to hit the ground.

"Well, I better be off," Neville declared, excusing himself from the Gryffindor table.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, looking at Neville's practically full plate of food. "You barely ate."

"I have a potions lesson with Malfoy," Neville shrugged, more focused on gathering his bag which he had taken to dinner.

"How is that going, Neville?" Hermione asked, curiously.

"She gave him 'Potions for Beginners' and set her owl on him again," Harry announced, clearly not at all happy with the way his friend was being treated.

"That's insulting!" Hermione declared, outraged. "Neville, why didn't you tell me? I could just go back to tutoring you."

"She's really not bad," Neville defended. "Honest, she's not. She's actually a very good tutor. She even gave me this test that would allow her to see how I learned."

"Are you saying you like Malfoy tutoring you?" Ron asked, scandalized.

"Yes," Neville blurted, and then upon seeing everyone's face quickly added. "I mean, no." More looks. "I don't know. She's not that bad."

The group looked over at the Slytherin table where Graces was talking to her brother. Upon seeing their stares, though, both twins gave identical glares before turning their noses up at them.

"Yeah, she seems lovely," Ron deadpanned.

Neville sighed. "She's good at tutoring, at least. Anyways, I better go."

Neville, despite the fact he had seen that Graces was still at dinner, practically ran all the way to the classroom. He could not have been more excited if he was at the Quidditch World Cup. Ever since the closet he had been imagining being in this room with Graces, picking up where they had left off. Neville had never been more happy to wear wizarding robes through the day, or he would have suffered some extremely embarrassing teenage moments.

As the time ticked by, Neville found himself growing increasingly nervous. He had been with Graces before, but he had never know he was going to be with her like this time. The other times just sort of happened, one minute they were drinking the next they were rolling on the floor with one another. One minute they were practically screaming at one another, the next he had her up against the wall and then was taking her on a desk. These things between them were never really planned, they just happened. Now that he was expecting it though, he started feeling nervous. Neville anxiously moved his hands to his hair, making sure it was still parted neatly.

I wonder if she even likes it parted, Neville thought. Thinking of how other boys did their hair. He certainly did his more traditional. His gran always seemed to insist on that, not being one to want his hair unkempt, but Neville wondered if Graces had a preference.

I think we have bigger things to worry about than just hair.

As that nasty thought entered into Neville's mind, he suddenly became greatly aware of his looks. It wasn't that he didn't tend to think of how he looked, but now he realized that someone else was paying attention too. He ran his tongue over his front teeth, that were buck toothed and gapped. He remembered how he had begged his gran to allow them to be shortened and pulled in when he was younger, but she always refused. Neville suspected it was because it reminded her of his father when he was younger. While he still wanted them shortened, he didn't press the matter any further when he realized this. Losing a father you never knew wasn't anything compared to losing the son you always wanted.

But things were changing for him now. He no longer wanted to just please his gran and try to make up for the son she lost. He had spent years of his life trying to be as good as his father for her, and for years he had always felt he was a disappointment. Graces didn't make him feel that way. She never seemed to want him to be anyone else other than who he was. Still, he found himself wanting to appear more attractive to her.

Neville began thinking of the boys he had seen around Graces, and suddenly started to feel a bit sick. All of them were devilishly handsome. It was like the Slytherin house just pumped out models. Most of the boys there didn't seem to have any odd pubescent look, it was as though they just one day transformed into ravishing men. Even Higgs, as young as he was, had this dashingly handsome look about him.

Plus, he has that whole mysterious thing going for him since he rarely talks, Neville thought bitterly.

She's not with them though, she's with me, Neville told himself firmly, trying to comfort himself and draw away from such thoughts.

She's not really with you, the snide voice continued. She said she wasn't your girlfriend. She really has only been with Nott.

And as though the fates had heard his inner monologue, Graces then entered the room with her ex-boyfriend trailing behind her.

Neville, who had been leaning on a desk, immediately sat up. This was the last thing he had expected to happen. Graces, as she entered, shot him an apologetic look, before continuing her conversation with the tall Slytherin following her.

"I really can't, Nott. I'm sorry, but you will have to find someone else to tutor you," Graces said irritatedly as she placed her bag on the desk Neville was standing in front of.

"Come on, Gray," Nott pleaded gently, moving his hands and taking hers with a handsome smile. "I really could use the help, and you seem to find time to tutor everyone else."

"That's different," she quipped coldly, yanking her hand away from Nott. "I have a duty to the younger years, and a life debt to Longbottom."

"It could be argued that you also have a duty to me," Nott persisted, moving closer to Graces. "Our families are trying to reach an alliance together."

"That responsibility falls on Draco," Graces drawled, now stepping away from the table and walking away from her ex. Nott's hand shot out though and he was gripping her by the wrist preventing her from moving away.

"Oi!" Neville bellowed, moving forward and shoving the Slytherin. "Don't touch her like that!"

"Mind your own business, Longbottom," Graces hissed, pushing Neville away and stepping between the two boys so her back was facing Nott. "I don't need your stupid Gryffindor heroics, so leave it be."

Neville was about to argue, but Graces looked up at him imploringly with her silver eyes and mouthed 'please'. Neville had no idea what was actually going on, but he backed off at her request.

"You can't be here, Nott," Graces continued, turning and facing the other boy. "This is Longbottom's life debt, and I doubt he wants to give up his tutoring time for you. If you really want I can tutor you with the younger years."

"I refuse to be tutored with children," Nott scoffed, before grinning predatorily. "You could always tutor me after you finish with Longbottom here though."

Neville moved more to the side to see Graces expression.

"Absolutely not," she stated firmly. "Draco would never allow it, given our history. He would say that is completely inappropriate. "

"Then don't tell him," Nott shrugged easily. "Draco does not need to know everything you do." Graces opened her mouth to argue more, but Nott cut her short. "Also, I think that he has grander things to worry about. For instance, if this alliance between him and I doesn't pan out, I imagine he could be in some awful predicaments in the future."

Neville watched as Graces face immediately lost it's ferocity and looked fearful. He suddenly realized that Nott must have some way to hurt Draco, because he had never seen Graces' look falter so fast.

"He can stay," Neville decided aloud, causing both Slytherins to look over at him in surprise.

"You're going to let me stay?" Nott asked slowly. "Why?"

"Gryffindor chivalry," Neville explained simply, moving over to his bag and taking out his things. "It would be discourteous for me not to allow you to stay. Especially when not allowing you places a girl's virtue in a questionable position, so you get to stay."

"It's settled then," Graces declared, before the Slytherin could say anything else. "Longbottom, start getting your things out, and Nott you do the same. I'll give Longbottom here his assignment first, and then come over and see what you need help with."

Nott didn't move from his spot, instead he just glared at Neville, who—despite his earlier words—couldn't help but be slightly intimidated.

"Nott, the longer you stand there glaring at Longbottom, the longer it will be before I can help you," Graces scolded.

Nott gave Neville one more contemptuous look before retreating to the desk in front of him, where he angrily started unpacking.

"Thank you," Graces murmured quietly, as she stood next to Neville and flipped through his potions book. "I'm so sorry, he followed me after dinner and—"

"It's fine," Neville whispered gently, placing a reassuring hand on hers. Graces moved her hand away quickly, and gave him another apologetic look.

"If he turned around and saw…"

"Sorry, you're right, " Neville apologized, taking a deep breathe to gather himself.

"He doesn't even need help," Graces growled lowly, as she took out the ingredients and tools that Neville would need and organized them neatly on the desk . "He's extremely talented in potions."

"Then why is he here?" Neville asked, impatient, himself, with the boys' presence.

Graces looked at Neville for a moment and bit her lip. "Promise me you'll leave things be."

"Wha—"

"Promise me, Longbottom. No matter what, you will not say anything. Just stay here at your desk, don't come over, don't yell at him, and certainly don't shove him again… or hit him," Graces added hastily. "Just stay here."

"Graces, I can't pro—"

"You can," Graces stressed. "I'm a big girl, I can handle this. If you don't promise me, I'll tell him I can see him after you, which would be much worse for me. So, promise me you will stay here and not say a word."

"As long as he isn't hurting you, I promise," Neville said grudgingly, now more fearful of what was going on.

"Graces," Nott sang impatiently.

"Just a moment," Graces requested, "Longbottom has a few questions before we begin."

Nott rolled his eyes, and turned back to his own desk, clearly irritated that Neville required her longer. Graces flipped open the book and searched the pages for a moment before finding what she was looking for.

"Here," Graces said handing Neville the open book. "It's just a simple cough potion, super easy. Not that I think you can't handle a more complex potion," Graces quickly added, seeing Neville's face. "I'm giving this to you so there will be no mistakes that could cause injury; and also so you won't need my help. Even if you mess this up there won't be any consequences other than it being a wrong color."

"Graces," Nott called again impatiently.

"Coming," Graces exclaimed over her shoulder,,flustered. "Remember your promise," Graces reminded Neville quietly, before leaving.

Neville watched her make her way to Nott, who upon seeing her coming gave Neville a goading smirk. It wasn't the smirk that got to Neville though, what got to him was how the Slytherin placed his hand on Graces lower back as he guided her to the table, and the look of deep shame on Graces' face when she turned and saw he had seen.

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Graces continued to read over the instructions to make the Draught of Peace, all the while trying valiantly to ignore Nott's hand around her waist.

"It says to add powdered moonstone until the potion turns purple," Graces read shakily. Nott hummed a reply, clearly not at all interested in the potion. "This is important No-"

"Theodore," Nott interjected, bending down so that his face was in the crook of her neck. "I think it's about time we were back on a first name basis, don't you?"

Graces gritted her teeth and tried to repress the shudder going through her spine as Nott's hot breath violated her neck.

"No, I don't. Nott is fine for me."

"Graces," Nott purred, moving closer and wrapping his other arm around her now. "Let's stop this now, huh? You know I am sorry, and I am willing to spend the rest of my life making up for the betrayal."

Graces jerked away, and pushed the jar of moonstone against Nott's chest. "Add the powder. You don't have enough hellebore syrup for the potion; I need to get my vial out of my bag."

"That is a sufficient amount," Nott asserted, placing the jar Graces handed him down.

"No," Graces objected slowly, clearly at the edge of her patience. "It is not. This potion requires everything to be measured out and done perfectly. If not done correctly, there are any number of possible severe consequences. The Draught of Peace can place a person in a deep sleep; a possibly irreversible sleep," Graces stressed. "Too much of certain ingredients and too little of others is dangerous. Hellebore syrup is used in potions to treat paralysis, not using enough in this potion can cause the taker to become paralysed for a long period or permanently. The syrup is needed to cancel out some of the side effects of so much moonpowder.

"Merlin, Nott, you should know this," she hissed. "Only using that much syrup can cause the drinker to be paralysed for hours! And not just certain areas, completely."

"Graces," Nott began taking his face on a dark look, as he moved her hair away from her face. "Have I ever made a mistake in potions?"

"No," Graces admitted quietly, taking a step back as a something in the back of her mind told her she was in danger.

"That's right. I think it is fair to say that, when it comes to potions, I know what I am doing," Nott bragged, something sinister etching along his face. "So if I am choosing to not put enough syrup it must be purposely."

Graces looked over at the bubbling potion on the desk and felt a sickness begin to clutch her stomach.

"I won't help you," she breathed, now looking up at the boy in front of her with as much defiance as she could muster.

"Gray, you're a smart girl. Surely you realize, I don't actually need your help with this potion," Nott cooed, stepping so that he wedged her between the table and himself, like an animal cornering his pray. Panicked, Graces made to move, but the bigger boy leaned his body against hers, a playful chuckled escaping his lips. Graces tried to think of a way to get Nott to back off.

"Longbottom—"

"We're not doing anything," Nott interrupted, not allowing Graces to use another person in the room as an excuse. "We're just talking intimately. Longbottom over there will just assume we are two ex-lovers getting back together. He can't hear a thing from this distance, with us talking so low."

Graces closed her eyes and tried to stop the panic that was spreading through her. There was no way out of this situation, she had to be compliant.

He's not hurting you, he's just touching and talking. Just calm down. You're okay, Neville won't let him hurt you. Just get through this.

Graces gripped the desk behind her tightly as Nott ran his thumb along her neck, and pressed himself against her.

"I've always wanted you," Nott divulged, admiring Graces. "I never understood why you always seemed to cower away from physical intimacy. I had thought at first it was me. I was pretty lanky, up until 5th year. I worked all summer to be more physically attractive to you, and while other girls noticed, it seemed as though you didn't care."

Graces gasped as Nott's hand shot up from her waist and held the back of her neck firmly.

"You were my girlfriend," he gritted bitterly, not bothering to be gentle any longer. "I worked out every day all summer for you, and you didn't even seem to notice. You were always wrapped up in Draco or school. It never seemed to matter to you what I did for you, you never took notice. Is some physical affection and attention really too much to ask of a girlfriend? Was it really that impossible for you to give?"

"I should have given you more attention," Graces admitted shakily, "but physical affection was never my responsibility. That is a duty for a wife, which I was not."

"You were supposed to be," Nott murmured, easing his hand slightly.

"If you wanted that, you shouldn't have slept with another girl," Graces clipped coolly, her eyes not wavering from Nott's.

"Tell me something, Graces, would you have married me had I been faithful?"

"Yes."

"You didn't love me though. Why would you have married me if you didn't love me?" Nott implored.

"I had assumed love would come with time," Graces explained, now realizing how foolish she had been. "I was never one for silly romance, as you know. I thought with marriage and a family I would grow a fondness for you that through the years would bloom into love."

"And now?"

"That soil has been poisoned."

"And what if you had never grew to love me?" Nott continued, only his eyes showing his anger.

"I would have had other things to keep me happy: children, Draco, a career and the usual comforts of life."

"Maybe I don't care if you ever grow to love me now," Nott said, his eyes boring into hers. "Maybe I am willing to be married to a woman I know will never love me, so long as she gives me an heir and acts the part of a dutiful wife."

"Maybe I want love now," Graces professed, not knowing herself where that confession had come from, but realizing that that was indeed what she wanted.

"You have love though," Nott pointed out slyly, nearing Graces face. "Don't you?"

Graces frowned, unsure of what Nott was talking about. Did he know she was sleeping with someone? But that most certainly did not mean love. Nott should know that sleeping with someone definitely did not equate to love.

"You have Draco," Nott smiled, his face directly in front of hers, "and I know how much you love your brother, Graces."

Graces could feel her face drain of color, as her heart began pounding violently in her chest. Nott grinned at her sudden understanding.

"Tell me, though, Graces," Nott purred, running his hand through her hair and leaning forward as though he were going to kiss her. "How much do you love your brother? Would you say you would be willing to do anything for him? Because right now your brother could do with someone in the Dark Lord's circle being on his side. Our Lord grows impatient everyday waiting for Draco to complete his mission. I could put in a good word: say Draco is plotting constantly for his mission. It would do well for him to have me on his side, reassuring our Lord about him. The question is, Graces, what would you be willing to do for me if I did?"

"Malfoy?"

Nott emitted a low growl at the sound of Neville's voice, but did sit up so that his face was no longer in front of Graces', though she was still wedged between the desk and him. Graces was looking up at the man in front of her, unsure of what to do.

"You should probably answer him," Nott stated, staring down at her menacingly.

"Yes?" Graces called, her voice shaking slightly.

"I can't seem to find the vial of honey water," Neville sighed.

"I placed it at the front of your desk."

"...It's not there. Would you mind coming over?"

Nott's jaw tightened at the request.

"I'm sure it's there, Longbottom." Graces promised. "Just take another look. I wouldn't have forgotten. I remember distinctly laying it out. It should be the third vial over from the left. I placed it between the African sea salt and rose oil."

"Malfoy, it's really not here," Neville persisted.

Graces took a deep breath and moved to go towards the desk.

"Excuse me, No—Theo," she corrected quickly. "I have to handle this."

While Nott did not seem at all happy by the interruption, he did seem please about the use of his given name.

"That's a good girl," he chided, caressing her cheek.

It took all of Graces' self-control not to flinch at the touch. She started over towards the table, not even able to look at Neville. She felt so ashamed, and being near Neville just made her feel even more so. She felt… dirty. Like Nott touching her had in some way seeped into her skin, and brandished her.

"I could have sworn I left it right here," Graces murmured, touching the space where the vial should have been, still not looking at Neville. "There's even a big gap between these vials."

"Maybe I lost it," Neville offered. "I tried to summon it though, and it didn't come forth. I'm not that great at charms, though."

Graces nodded her head, and took out her own wand. "Accio honey water," she cast, her hand out waiting to catch the vial.

When nothing happened she frowned, she had always been able to do that charm. It was one of the first she learned with a training wand at the manor. She had been performing that charm since she was five.

"Maybe it's stuck under something," Nott suggested, striding over to the table.

Graces looked under the long broad potions table. It was pitch black underneath, she could barely see anything. Wand still in hand she muttered "lumos" and started pointing her wand under the desk looking for the vile. After a few moments she saw it. The glass winked over at her from the corner of one of the legs.

"I see it," she grumbled, getting on her knees to crawl over to where the vial was, but when she tried to pick the vial up from the floor it wouldn't budge. She was just about to call out that it had a sticking charm or something placed on it. When Neville bent down and pulled her completely under the table just as a large boom shook the class.

Graces gasped from the noise, and could hear Nott yelling all sorts of profanities from above.

"Are you okay?" Neville asked tightly, as the Nott continued in his groans.

"Wha-what?" Graces asked, shaken and confused from what was going on.

"Are you hurt?" Neville elaborated, examining her under the table.

"No, no, I'm fine. Wha—"

"Good." Before Graces could ask what was happening, Neville stood up. "Oh, Merlin. I'm so sorry. I-I have no idea what happened. It was just simmering and—"

"Longbottom, you idiot!" Nott bellowed. There was a loud bang against the desk and Graces knew that Nott had just slammed his fist down. She peeked out from under the desk and saw murky steaming green liquid all over Nott, a great portion being on his face that looked to be sprouting very painful boils.

"I-I'm sorry," Neville apologized nervously. "I don't know what happened."

Graces came out from under the desk just as Nott lunged forward and tackled Neville to the ground.

"You bloody idiot! I am going to kill you!"

"Theodore!" Graces called now trying to pull the boy off Neville, but making sure to avoid the potion. "Stop! It was an accident, stop it!"

Nott pushed Graces away effortlessly though, causing her to fumble against another desk. Neville seizing the opportunity of not having both hands upon him, reached up and decked the other boy right in the face where a cluster of boils were bubbling up. Nott doubled over in pain, clutching his face.

When he had regained himself Neville was standing up his wand in hand.

Nott glared at the Gryffindor before him, slowly standing up and brandishing his own wand dangerously.

"You have no idea who you are messing with, Longbottom." he threatened tightly, not flinching as more boils began to spring up on his face.

"Theo, it was an accident," Graces pleaded, moving over and holding Nott's other arm. "Please, don't make this into a big deal. You know Longbottom here is always messing up, if it is anyone's fault it is mine for not checking on him. I'm so sorry, please stop."

Neville and Nott were still just glaring at one another, neither paying attention to the girl in between them.

"Like I said," Neville began slowly, his wand still pointing menacingly towards the other boy. "It was an accident."

There was a dead silence in the room for a long period, and Graces thought for sure hexes were about to be thrown, when Nott hissed in pain as a cluster of boils exploded on his face. Leaving half the skin from his bleeding profusely along with puss.

"Oh Merlin, Theodore," Graces cried moving her hand to the wound. "Let me fix this, I have some potion and we can-"

"I don't want your help!" Nott bellowed, slapping Graces hand away and rounding on her. Graces gasped as Nott's hands gripped her shoulders tightly and he pushed her against a wall."You don't get to play healer on me anymore. I'm not that same pathetic guy that would allow you to fix any minor injury on me just to be touched! I want a real healer, not some silly girl with big dreams of being one."

"What the hell is your problem?" Neville interjected pushing Nott away from Graces, and standing as a wall between them. "She's bloody trying to help you. You ungrateful git."

"Longbottom," Graces hissed. "Keep out of this, you've done enough I think for today."

"Don't you dare touch her," Neville continued, ignoring Graces. "I mean it, Nott. Don't you fucking lay your filthy paws on her like that again."

"Got a bit of a crush there, Longbottom?" Nott sneered, his face looking more feral as blood trickled down and burn marks started to appear.

"Of course not," Neville protested, his face starting to pink. "I just—"

"You fancy her," Nott snickered nastily. "I can tell. Who wouldn't? She's a pretty thing to look at. I bet even when she is being particularly nasty and cruel to you, you still end up getting hard."

"You're vile," Neville spat.

"Vile or not, it's the truth. Just remember, Longbottom, girls like her don't go for bucktooth pudgy idiots like you."

"You better head over to the hospital wing," Neville warned coldly. "Pureblood society isn't the most forgiving of imperfection. You wouldn't want any of your wounds to scar."

Nott sneered and made his way to the door leaving Graces and Neville alone.

Neville, no longer having an audience other than Graces in the room, hissed in pain and clutched his ankle. Graces gasped realizing that it was covered in boils, as well as the hand he had used to deck Nott.

"Oh, Merlin! Sit down, sit down," she exclaimed, rushing over to her bag and summoning the boil cure potion she and Neville had made the other day. Before Neville could protest she was on her knees in front of him lifting up his pant leg.

"Graces, it's-"

"It's badly burned too," she interjected, biting her lower lip. "Shit, shit. I don't have burn-healing paste. We have to go to the hospital wing. Here, I'll help you walk. You should have a proper healer anyways. Pomphrey can fix this in no time though, I'm so sor—"

"Graces, I don't want to go to the hospital wing,"Neville said gently, taking her hand in his. "I don't want you any where near Theodore Nott, and I certainly don't want to be away from you right now."

"We have to go," Graces protested. "If we don't get the paste you'll be scarred. I don't have any..."

"I have burn-healing paste," Neville said calmly. "When you share a room with Seamus it's one of those things you keep on hand. It's in my bag." Graces moved to go fetch the paste from Neville's bag, but the Gryffindor didn't let go of her hand. Confused she looked back over at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Graces reassured. "Really, Longbottom, I'm fine."

"How often does that happen?"

Graces knew what Neville meant by that. He wasn't just asking about Nott being forceful with her, he was asking about they way he had been touching her as well. Ashamed, she looked away.

"It has never happened before," Graces shrugged, still not meeting Neville's eye. "You know old boyfriends they forget and—"

"You don't seem like the type of girl to just let old boyfriends forget," Neville commented. "What's going on, Graces? What was he saying to you? Was he threatening you?"

"Longbottom, drop it. I don't want to discuss this with you."

"You know I wouldn't tell a soul. Why can't you—"

"It's not my secret to tell. Please, don't ask me anymore. I can't tell you. This is not something that has happened before, and I will talk to Draco about it. You do not need to get any more involved. Do you understand?"

Neville really didn't want to let the subject go, but he knew there was no way Graces would tell him anything when her face was set like that. So, realizing arguing would be futile, he nodded. Graces ran over to his bag and got the paste and immediately set to work on his ankle.

"I don't understand what you did to that potion," Graces murmured. "I can't think of one thing you could have done to make it explode like that."

"I didn't make the cough potion. I made the boil potion. I'm surprised you didn't notice, considering we reviewed it just the other day. I made it the same way I did first year, only I was careful to add the porcupine quills after I got you under the desk.I didn't want you getting hurt."

Graces looked up at Neville completely aghast.

"Don't look so surprised," Neville chuckled. "Unfortunately, when I pulled you under the desk, I wasn't able to get my ankle out of harms way. Too tall."

"You planned this?"

"Well, yeah," Neville blushed. "I couldn't let that slimy git continue touching and intimidating you, could I? And you had made it very clear I was to stay at my desk, and not say a word to Nott."

Graces sat there on the ground still stunned by what Neville had done for her. It all was so obvious now: How he called her over, why she couldn't move the vial, how he pulled her under the table.

I shouldn't be surprised, she thought. Neville's a good guy, a good guy who is growing to be a good man...

"You should have stayed out of it," she said quietly, gently taking Neville's hand and beginning to apply the potion and paste. "You have no idea what you have just done. You've made an enemy out of a boy who is growing up to be a very dangerous man."

"I can handle Nott," Neville scoffed. Graces looked up at Neville for a moment, and he could see in her eyes that she didn't feel as confidently about the situation as he did, but she returned to his hand and after a few minutes of meticulous work, and pregnant silence, she finished.

"There, all better," Graces said, looking at Neville's wounds as though she now planned on just watching the healing process. "Maybe we should go to the hospital wing just to be safe."

"It's fine," Neville comforted, standing up.

"It may still scar," Graces argued, not seeming to like that Neville was so ready to dismiss his injuries.

"Then I'll have a really wicked scar," the Gryffindor winked, holding his hand out to Graces to help her up.

Graces rolled her eyes, but took the hand. "You're such a Gryffindor," she scoffed.

"Thank you," Neville affirmed proudly with a playful smile.

"Though," Graces began with a secretive smile. "it would seem you have some...Slytherin traits too."

The smile that had been playing on Neville's face dropped. "You take that back."

Graces erupted in a fit of giggles at Neville's offended look. "No way, Longbottom. Your plan was completely Slytherin: finding a loophole in the promise you made and actually making a calculated plan instead of just jumping in. All very Slytherin," Graces complimented.

"Mmmm," Neville hummed narrowing his eyes at Graces. "I think it could easily be argued as Gryffindor-ish too."

"The act was Gryffindor, the way you implemented it was Slytherin," Graces teased.

"Ugh! You're rubbing off on me," Neville groaned.

"Your gran will be so proud," Graces mused, clapping her hands together.

"You're such a prat. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Just Draco," Graces smiled. "I really would feel better if you let Pomfrey take a look at that."

"Graces, I just said—"

"Please, Longbottom."

Neville sighed, knowing he couldn't say no to Graces when she looked at him like that, with genuine concern. Graces quickly packed the room rushing around as though she thought if she didn't hurry Neville would change his mind.

"It's almost curfew, so we should hurry," Graces instructed pulling her bag over her shoulder.

As they walked down the corridors to the hospital wing a thought crossed Neville's mind.

"I already have scars on my hand, do those bother you?"

"No," Graces replied simply.

"Then why are you insisting I see Pomfrey?"

Graces gave Neville a quick sideways glance for a moment before answering.

"I don't want you having any scars because of me."

Neville frowned at the statement and was going to ask her what all she meant when he heard his dorm mates' voices sounding from around the corner.

"I mean Neville's nice and all, but I never imagined seeing some girl balling her eyes out over him," Dean stated.

"Yeah, I know," Seamus agreed. "I can't believe Neville Longbottom has some girl crying her eyes out over him and I can't even get a date."

"Neville's a great bloke," Harry said defensively.

"No one is saying he's not," Ron pointed out, "but come on Harry even you have to admit he isn't that handsome of a fella. And… now I like Neville and all, you know I do, but he isn't the most… popular of blokes. Remember fourth year when you and me were convinced Hermione just made up having a date for the Yule ball so she wouldn't have to go with Neville?"

"Yeah, I know," Harry admitted. "I really feel bad for him most of the time. He's always forgetting this, or fumbling with that, and sometimes it's funny, but others it's just kind of yeah.. He can't help that he's so… Neville-ish though."

"Neville-ish?" All the other boys asked laughing.

"That's brilliant," Dean said laugh. "I suppose it's the best way to describe it. Like back when he was always losing that toad! I swear I think the toad was just trying to escape from him."

"Yeah," Seamus chuckled, "Remember third year in divination when Professor Trelawney "predicted" he would break his cup? Jesus, that was funny. He really thought she was a real seer! I mean anyone could have predicted Neville would break the cup. He's so clumsy."

"At least he doesn't cry all the time now," Ron added. "Merlin, he used to get teary eyed all the time!"

Neville all of the sudden wished he was back in the classroom with Nott punching him. Or in the barn after Graces had accidently poisoned him. Hell or even being crucioed by Bellatrix at the ministry again, because while all those things hurt they didn't hurt nearly as bad as this.

"They don't see him," Graces whispered clutching the shoulder of her bag strap and looking out into nothing.

"What?" Neville asked, unsure that he had heard Graces at all.

"Nothing," Graces whispered shaking her head.

"Come on, we should go the other way," Neville murmured, turning around. He stopped when he realized Graces wasn't following him.

"Malfoy," he hissed, jerking his head to indicate for her to follow him. Graces didn't move though, she just shaking her head slowly and before Neville could stop her she turned the corner.

"That's right he did cry a lot didn't he?" Graces asked cheerily turning the corner, causing all four boys to jump from surprise. "Pansy used to call him a fat little cry baby. Do you remember the time in potions when he—"

"Shut it, Malfoy!" Ron hissed, whipping his wand out.

"Why don't you make me, Weasley," Graces challenged her eyes glinting dangerously.

Ron raised his wand and was about to call out a jynx when a familiar voice entered the hall.

"Expelliarmus!"

All eyes turned to see Neville standing in the hall now. His wand out and Ron's wand in his hand. He was staring at all the boys with a look of deep betrayal. Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Dean all couldn't even maintain their gaze on him.

"My gran always said real men don't raise their wand, or hands, against women," Neville murmured quietly, placing Ron's wand down on the ground. "I imagine your mother told you something similar, Ron."

"Neville, we—"

"I don't want to hear it," Neville said tightly, raising his hand.

"Oh, it's like Christmas came early," Graces giggled gleefully. "I wish Draco were here for this. Tell me, Longbottom, are you going to cry?"

"I said shut it, Malfoy," Ron gritted, turning a deep shade of red.

Graces raised and elegant eyebrow, and began walking towards Ron.

"Why?" she asked silkily, taking her wand and raising Ron's chin so that he was no longer staring at the floor but looking into her eyes. "Do you think that anything I say could hurt him as much as you and your friends already have?"

Ron didn't answer. He seemed to have had a silencing charm placed on him, and his skin began to glisten from perspiration. Graces took a step back to see that all the boys had similar looks of shame on them.

"Nev," Harry rasped, "I—we didn't—"

"Mean it?" Graces offered, "Or know he was there?"

Silence ensued over the Gryffindors once again, the only noise to be heard was of Graces' continued laughter.

"Come on, Longbottom, it's late and we still have to get you over to Pomfrey," Graces called nonchalantly, heading towards Neville.

"No," Neville said moving away from everyone. "I… I want to go alone, thanks."

"Why are you going to Pomfrey?" Seamus asked concerned.

Neville didn't answer, he just turned and left towards the hospital wing. Graces stopped and turned to face the boys that Neville called his friends. The boys that she knew he would do anything for. The boys that she saw now didn't see him for all he truly was.

"He was being Neville-ish," she proclaimed, turning back around and heading towards the dungeons.

Don't forget to review/follow! Also, next scene is rated M… I'm sure most of you don't mind though :P