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, Snakespur, kankananime123, noone297, Manoirmalfoys, ToxicCrackerz, Lil Miss Sunshine14, TrueColorsNeverFade, xXDaniLynnXx, rusher13101, Taffyrose , unhappycrazygirl , and Marie for their reviews!

Also thanks to Manoirmalfoys for the French review! I really enjoyed it!

And thank you to xXDaniLynnXx for the very sweet PM!

Chapter 22

"Did you forget the password, dear?"

Neville stared at the portrait hole with the fat lady. There had been so many times he had forgotten the password and been forced to sleep outside of his common room on the steps with the fat lady, but never had there been a time when he wanted to until today.

"No… I remember it," Neville said quietly, wishing he didn't.

"Well, then do hurry up, dear," the fat lady ordered. "It's late and I need my beauty sleep."

"Dillgrout…"

For a brief moment Neville considered cozying up on one of the couches by the fire and sleeping away from his bed, but the thought of how awkward that would make the morning stopped him.

And I don't want them to think I cried all night or something, he thought bitterly, opening the door to the 6th year boys room.

Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Dean were all up, waiting for him. They must have all been listening for him too, because they each were standing in front of the door still in their clothes from the day. Apparently, none were willing to go to the loo to dress for bed, too afraid they would miss his entry. Neville stared at them from the doorway. He knew they were sorry, it was written all over their faces how sincerely contrite they were, but he still found himself unable to forgive them at the moment. Looking away and pretending he didn't see them, he made his way over to his bed.

"Malfoy's bird is there," Dean informed, right before Neville opened the curtains. "We couldn't get it to leave. We each tried, but it gave us all a good gash on our arms."

The only sign Neville made that he heard Dean was the brief moment of hesitation before he opened his curtains. The bird was indeed there, perched in the middle of his bed with the usual stationary Neville had come to know so well.

"Hello, Loki," Neville greeted quietly, not making any move to take the envelope, still standing clutching the curtains. "Sorry you had to wait."

"It wouldn't have had to wait if it let us just take the letter for you," Ron muttered darkly. "Hell, it could have just dropped it off, but it insisted on wa—"

Ron stopped talking when he noticed Neville staring at him. It wasn't that Neville was being outright mean, or rude, but his expression made it very clear that Ron's comments were not welcome.

When the room was again silent, Neville walked over to his nightstand and opened the drawer, taking out a chocolate cockroach cluster and offering it to the bird. Loki cautiously reached out a talon, never taking his eyes off Neville's face as though he suspected the boy to do something stupid or cruel, and took the treat. As Loki delicately nibbled on the chocolate, Neville gently removed the letter.

Meet me in the barn, where the thestrals are kept.

-G. M.

Also, if I were you, I would storm out of the room, so no one questions why you are leaving… Just a friendly Slytherin suggestion.

"Neville, we—"

"I don't want to hear it," Neville said coldly, now looking at the boys in front of him. "There is nothing you can say to me to make this better right now."

All four boys fell silent as a chill seemed to set in the room.

"You're all supposed to be my friends," Neville said, unable now to hide the hurt in his voice.

"We are your friends," Seamus protested. "Neville, we are so sorry. You have no idea how sorry we are."

Seamus moved to put an arm on Neville's, but the sandy haired boy stepped away from the gesture.

"I know what people think of me. I know I am the school idiot, clutz, nerd. I realize I am not that handsome, and that I'm not anyone's first choice to hang out with, that half the time I'm just embarrassing to be seen with."

"Neville, that's not true, we enjoy hanging out with you."

"Third year, I asked you if you wanted to hang out together while everyone was out on a Hogsmeade trip, Harry," Neville reminded coldly. "You were alone in the hall and I asked if you wanted to play a game of exploding said you had an essay to write, so I offered to go to the library with you. Then you said you just remembered and that you already wrote the essay. It took me a bit, but I eventually realized you just didn't want to hang out with me. What you didn't know, Harry, was I didn't accidently bump into you in that hall. I was looking for you, because I knew you didn't have a form signed, and I didn't want you to be lonely."

Harry had never felt more deplorable. His stomach felt as though it had snakes wiggling around in it, and it was taking all of his effort to not look away from Neville. He knew he wasn't really trying to avoid Neville. That he was only trying to sneak out for the Hogsmeade's trip, but now that he thought about it, he could have snuck Neville out with him. He could have considered how lonely he must have been, not being allowed to go.

"Neville," Harry began morosely.

"Stop talking," Neville hissed angrily, the lump in his throat growing more with every second he had to look at all of them. "I thought things were going to be different this year. I thought that after the ministry, and what you said on the train about me being your friend…" Neville paused and closed his eyes, clearly trying to get a hold of the turmoil of emotions he had raging inside him.

"Tomorrow, I am going to forgive you all, because I know you didn't mean to hurt me. And despite everything that has happened, you all have been good friends to me: helping me with classes, telling me to stand up for myself, defending me, and comforting me even at times. I really am happy to call all of you my friends, but right now I can barely look at all of you."

"Where are you going?" Ron exclaimed as Neville headed towards the door.

"Out," Neville snapped, the door came slamming down behind him.

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Graces had been waiting in the barn for what seemed forever. Part of her worried that Neville had thought what she said in the hall with his friends was how she felt, and that he wouldn't come.

He'll come, she reassured herself for the hundredth time.

A low creak sounded and Graces' head shot up from behind a thestral to see Neville enter the barn. Graces' heart sank as she took in Neville's appearance. Even in the dim light of the barn and Neville's head hanging low, she could make out every aspect of Neville's face. He was hurt. After a few moments of her just staring at him, Neville let out a sigh and broke the silence.

"Hi."

"Hi," Graces greeted back somberly.

"You wanted me here…"

"Yes, I…" Graces took in a long breath and moved the thestrial back in the stall, before walking over to Neville and taking one of his hands in her's. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not going to cry, if that's what you mean," Neville muttered, still not looking her.

"I didn't mean that," Graces gasped and reassured urgently, "Surely, you realize I didn't mean that."

Neville raised his head slightly so that he was now staring into Graces' eyes, it seemed as though he were searching for any hint of insincerity.

"I believe you," he murmured, looking back down.

"Your friends are all idiots," Graces proclaimed venomously.

Neville sighed, and ran his hand nervously through his hair.

"They're sorry; they didn't mean it. They're really not that bad of blokes, they made a mistake and they—"

Graces had heard enough of Neville's defense for his friends, so before he could utter another word, she silenced him with a kiss.

"I didn't understand before when you told me you were lonely," she said quietly, pulling back from Neville's lips as he looked down at her confused. "You were surrounded by a house where you could be yourself, and it always seemed like you had friends, but now I see what you meant."

"And what is that?" Neville asked, not taking his eyes off Graces. Wondering if she truly understood.

"They don't see you," Graces said sadly, placing both her hands tenderly on Neville's face.

"And you do?" Neville questioned, silently praying that she did.

"I'm starting to," Graces answered honestly, leaning up and kissing him softly again. "You said you would take away my pain if I took away yours," she whispered, kissing Neville's lower lip sensually and moving her hands down his chest. "I know what it's like to hurt so much that you need something, anything, to make you forget and feel better. Let me take away your pain."

Graces waited for Neville to say something, but he just stood looming over her staring at her as though he still couldn't figure if she were there. It was unsettling, but she maintained herself and didn't move away. It wasn't until Neville reached his hand out and caressed her face, sending a shiver down her spine, that the moment broke.

"You must be freezing," Neville fussed, now realizing that Graces was wearing a silk night gown and nothing else. "Here, take my cloak, you'll catch your death out here like this."

The blonde just shrugged off the cloak though, letting it fall down her body and back to the floor. Neville frowned, and made to reach for it again, but Graces moved closer to him preventing him from bending down.

"Then, why don't you keep me warm."

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Neville could feel his heart pounding in his chest. It was like a dream having Graces here like this: so open, so caring, not being at all closed off towards him. He still didn't understand why she was here like this, how she could want him after hearing all that his friends had said about him, but she was. She was there, standing before him in a silk nightgown, wanting to give him the comfort he so desperately needed. That familiar falling feeling suddenly became more pronounced the longer he stood looking at her.

Tentatively, he reached out and brushed her soft hair from her shoulder, letting his warm hand roam along the exposed skin before moving the straps of her gown down. It rippled down her like water going over the rocks of the creek, and he was left winded by the image presented to him. He was almost afraid to go farther, to take what he so desperately desired from her.

"You were there for me," Graces said gently, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I can be here for you too."

"How long will you be here, though?" Neville asked, fearing for the time when she would be gone, when having her here with him would be nothing but a memory.

"I'm here now," Graces said simply, leaning up and kissing him gently, all the while, carefully removing his clothes. "Isn't that better than nothing?"

Neville didn't answer. He was too busy trying to maintain his own thoughts as Graces pulled his belt away and dropped it unceremoniously to the floor. He could still feel how much his friends' betrayal hurt him, and now he wondered what kind of pain it would be when Graces was gone. He wondered if he could stand such pain, because any longer with her and he knew he would be in love with her. Could he allow himself this comfort from her, knowing that it would bring him that much closer to loving her? Was that sort of pain survivable? Right now it would be. He fancied Graces, and cared a great deal for her, but if she left it would not be devastating. He did want to be in love with her, just not before she started falling in love with him. She won't even say my bloody given name yet. He closed his eyes and fervently tried to ignore the swimming feeling in his head, and consider what taking comfort like this from Graces would do to him. However, all self-preservation seemed to slowly leave his mind with ever kiss she planted on his chest.

"Take me in the now, feel me in the present, and only miss me in the end," Graces murmured against his skin. "We both know eventually this will end, but it isn't ending now. Right now, I am here, and I want to be here. That's the most we can both ask of each other."

Graces was now looking up at him, her silver eyes and milky skin glowing in the darkness like a night star. Neville leaned down and kissed her tentatively, as though he were asking permission, and the moment he saw her close her eyes to the kiss he deepened it forcefully. He had never needed someone the way he needed her right then. He continued kissing her mouth greedily, he felt like a man that had been dying of thirst that had just found water. He was ready to just drown in her, self-preservation be damned. Kissing Graces reminded him all over again that there were things worth being devastated over.

He hurt so much, and the thing he didn't even realize about his pain was how dull it had been. It was as though he lived his life in chronic pain, but it wasn't until he heard his friends talking about him did it flare up to the point where it was unbearable. Hearing the conversation in the hall was like having someone confirm that all the things he thought about himself were true. And while Neville had always thought those things, hearing it like that was like a million knives stabbing him in the gut.

But kissing Graces made it all go away. Breathing her in, tasting her skin and feeling her body mold into his, it made every ounce of pain slowly leave him. He held her tighter, not caring that she was already pressed skin to skin with him already. He yearned to be closer to her. If Graces minded how tightly he was holding her she didn't let on, instead she was kissing him with just as much urgency and clinging to him in much the same way he was to her. Somehow they ended up against a stall door that opened almost at once from their weight.

Both students toppled down into the stall, sending hay flying through the air and Graces into a fit of giggles. As Graces laid in the hay laughing and trying to pull the straw out of her hair, Neville wondered if she realized how powerful she was, if she understood that she was closing wounds that he never thought would heal.

"Longbottom," Graces cried, still giggling, "be a gentleman and help me, don't just sit there smiling at my sufferings."

Neville chuckled, and moved to start extracting a piece of straw from Graces' long hair, but ended up kissing her instead, returning to how he was kissing her before they tumbled down to the hay.

"My hair," Graces protested breathlessly, as Neville moved to be in between her legs.

"Don't worry about your hair," Neville muttered huskily, his hot breath caressing her neck as he nibbled down to her collar. "I plan on messing it up anyways."

"Well, what about my skin?" Graces continued, pushing Neville away with a smile. "Do you want me all scratched up? Or being bitten by ticks?"

"Uh," Neville started confused. Graces giggled and walked out of the stall, giving Neville a view of her leaving that had his heart hammering against his chest. When she returned she was holding a soft blanket and, after shooing Neville away, proceeded to cover the hay.

"Hay is actually very dangerous. It may look like the perfect setting for a good romp, but it isn't. It is filled with dust, mold, and ticks, AND the only reason why it is warm is because of bacterial fermentation," Graces lectured. "It's disgusting, and yet in every sappy romance novel there is this cliche scene with the lovers falling in the hay and making love. Like being in a book somehow magically makes it so the straw isn't scratching and tearing up your back. Also, it can cause Hypersensitivity pneumonitis. Do you know what that is?"

Neville did not know or care what that was; however, he was enjoying the scene of watching Graces bending down and fixing the bedding over the hay, her breasts swaying as she reached up and over here and there, trying to cover the pile of hay completely.

"It's this inflammation of the lungs. Nasty thing, it—"

Before another word on the subject could be uttered, Neville's lips were once again encasing hers. Graces let out a slow moan as his tongue caressed her lower lip, begging for entry. When Neville was sure that Graces' mind was now far away from hay, he pulled back.

"As much as I am enjoying your dirty talk," he joked warmly, laying Graces down on the blanket, "I'd much rather be enjoying you."

Graces hummed an agreement, clearly still drunk off the kiss, and enfolded Neville into her arms. As they laid on top of the makeshift bed kissing, Neville could practically feel himself being pulled away from the world. It was as though he and Graces were far away from all reality, as though they somehow left the earth and were now in a world all of their own, a world where he could talk to her, tease her, kiss her and make love to her and no one would interfere, a place of no war, no loss, no anything, but them.

"You make me so happy," Neville whispered against her skin, pulling Graces into him and caressing her, sending a shiver down her spine as his soft touch went like lightning through her every nerve. "I can't remember a time when I was ever so content."

"You're just saying that because I'm naked underneath you," Graces breathed.

"Trust me, Graces, while having you naked underneath me makes me happy, it doesn't make me feel content." Neville leaned in close and whispered gently in Graces ear, his words tenderly tickling her skin, "You talking about hay makes me feel content."

Graces wondered if what Neville was saying was true, or just some sort of attempt at making her feel secure, but as Neville began kissing down her neck, and she felt him move her legs apart, she realized that what he was saying was sincere. She let out a small gasp as she felt him enter her, a gasp that was at once muffled by Neville's hot lips possessing hers. He was kissing her unabatedly, while readily moving himself with in her. Letting out slow moans, she began moving her hips upward to meet his, relishing in the noises he made for her and wanting to hear more.

Sex with Neville was like nothing that she ever thought possible. As he moved his body against hers, she shook with the realization that Neville, despite his, as Harry put it, Nevillishness, was the only man she had ever been able to imagine herself being able to let go with. The thought almost immediately sent her into a panic. Neville was one of the last men in the world she should be letting her guard down with. Her mind was just about to start listing the reasons she should not allow herself to become comfortable, when Neville laced one of his hands with hers.

It was such a small gesture, a meaningless gesture to any outsider, but Graces could feel all that was in it. The security he was offering, the silent plea for her to stay with him, for her to not retreat away from this and continue to be there alongside him. Knowing how much Neville needed this, and how much she too even needed it, she tightened her grip on his hand and let go.

She had never expected nights with Neville to be like this: fear, excitement and joy burning so intensely in her that she felt like a tightly wound bowstring, barely being able to hold back. Her fingers dug into his shoulders to anchor herself, as his mouth loitered along her chin saying her name again and again, biting gently all the while, urging her closer with his arm and body. And before she could think of what she was doing her hand was pressed to the back of his head and she was arching under him moving her hips to meet his wanting so much more of him than she knew she should.

"Say you want me," Neville demanded huskily, thrusting deep into her, purposely eliciting long moans from her mouth.

"I want you," Graces breathed. "I want you. I wa—"

Neville's mouth closed over hers hungrily, and his breath grew more and more uneven as he continued to satisfy his own compelling need for her. Graces let him take everything he wanted. Deep and fast they took one another. Passion and pleasure running through their veins to a point where they felt they would burn alive from it and neither caring if they did.

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"We have company," Graces giggled, staring up from their bed of hay.

Neville looked up and saw that two thestrals had popped their heads over the other stalls' walls and were staring down at them. Graces smiled and reached her hand up high in the air to meet the closest one's face.

"Hello, Aeron," Graces cooed, petting the thestral lovingly.

Neville watched her hand dance in the air with the ominous creature's face, its white, murky eyes staring down at them both.

"In fifth year you said you didn't see them. You and Draco said you couldn't see them," Neville pointed out.

"Draco doesn't. I, however, did lie," Graces shrugged. "If I didn't lie then Draco would know I saw them, and he would want to know why."

Neville turned on his side and watched Graces for a few moments.

"Why do you see them?" he asked gently, hoping the memory wouldn't be too sad.

Graces peeked over at him from the side for moment, before slowly putting her hand down. It was clear she was debating whether or not to tell Neville, but he had a feeling she was going to tell him. Her hand was twirling the long chain of the necklace he gave her, while its pendent danced just below her chest.

"You first," she asked hesitantly.

Neville raised an eyebrow, but decided to give into Graces' demand.

"I saw my grandfather pass away," he said simply. "I was seven, and he had dragon pox. At his age there wasn't much for the healers to do."

"My grandfather died from it too," Graces said sadly staring up at the ceiling. "Do you miss him?"

"Yeah," Neville admitted quietly. "It was really hard on my gran after. Me too, I suppose, but definitely harder for her. My great uncle Algie moved down soon after though. You know, to help her raise me, and to take on the role of patriarch. I think having him around really helped Gran. She complains about him a lot, he's a bit more eccentric, but I think she's really grateful for him."

"Eccentric how?"

"Like holding me upside down over the staircase railings to scare the magic out of me," Neville chuckled. "He was trying to prove I wasn't a squib."

Graces laughed at the image. "Yep, that would give you the title of eccentric. Did it work?"

"Yeah, it did," Neville smiled, "he dropped me on accident and I ended up bouncing. My gran was so happy she cried."

Graces opened her mouth to ask another question, but Neville stopped her "Oh, no you don't, Malfoy, it's your turn to share now. Why do you see the thestrals?"

"I was very young when it happened. I think six, or seven at the most. Everything is very fuzzy," she began turning on her side so her and Neville were facing one another. "I remember being in my room in the middle of the night, and something waking me. There was this dark figure looming over my bed with a dagger and then my father's voice followed by this flash of green light. I was still half asleep at the time, but I remember it feeling real. When I sat up though, my father was at my bed. I told him there was a man in my room, and that he had just fallen down on the floor, but my father insisted there was no one there."

"I knew there was though," Graces whispered, clearly alone in her thoughts. "I knew there had been a man and a green light. I wanted to look over my bed, but when I moved to do so my father climbed into my bed with me."

"My father never did that," Graces said looking Neville in the eyes. "He would let Draco and I sneak in his and mum's bed when we were frightened, but he never climbed into our bed. I think he was just blocking my line of vision from the edge of the bed. The man's body must have been just lying there."

Neville tried to imagine Lucius Malfoy climbing into a girl's pink bed. He didn't know the man that well, but it definitely didn't seem like something the Death Eater would do, unless he was indeed trying to hide something from his daughter's eyes.

"He told me I had a bad dream, and that I should go to sleep. Then he lifted his wand and tapped my head." Graces held her hand to where her father had charmed her to sleep, as though she could still feel it there. "When I woke up the next morning Draco and I were in our parents bed between them and they were holding hands across our bodies… That was odd as well. Don't get me wrong, my parents love eachother very much, but displaying affection like that is usually rare. Still, I didn't know for the longest time if what I remembered was real. Until I came to hogwarts and saw the carriages. I knew what a thestral was, so I knew the moment I saw them that what I always wondered was true."

"Did it frighten you?"

Graces frowned at the question.

"I don't understand."

"It didn't .. you know upset or frighten you that your father killed that man?"

"Why would that frighten or upset me?"

Neville shrugged, unsure of how that wouldn't frighten someone.

"It made me feel loved," Graces explained. "My father loves me enough to kill for me, and protect me from it."

Neville imagined his expression must have said exactly what he was thinking because Graces took a deep breathe before divulging more.

"My father has never been the outwardly affectionate type. He wasn't the kind of father to greet me at the door with showers of kisses and embraces. Even his time was giving sparingly…"

"I remember there was this one time period where I hadn't seen my father in a long time. He was never at breakfast, during the day he was at work, and then in the evenings he and my mother were either at some event that Draco and I were too young for, or my father was distracted all through dinner."

"I missed him." Graces gave a sad half laugh before continuing. "I missed him so much that I owled his secretary asked when his next lunch opening was and then sent him an invitation for a tea party three months in advance."

"You had to wait three months to have tea with your father?"

"No, no of course not. The next day when I came down for breakfast, I had the reply letter beside my toast. It said that he agreed to tea, but needed to change the date. Tea was changed to that afternoon. My father sat there the whole breakfast reading his paper, and I was just bubbling with silent excitement at the idea of having tea with him later. For the rest of the day I was just in a frenzy. I wanted everything perfect. I wore my nicest dress, asked my mum for the elf made china, insisted that there be four different types of biscuits, and decorated my room. My father even showed up in his nice formalwear. I think my mother must have told him about me wearing my party dress."

Neville snickered, unable to hide his amusement over Lucius Malfoy at a child's tea party. Graces smiled, and Neville could see emotion beginning to glisten in her eyes.

"It is silly, but you know… I'm a sixth year at Hogwarts and one of my best memories was my father coming to my tea party."

"So how was Lucius Malfoy at the tea party?" Neville asked playfully.

"Awkward," Graces scoffed. "He transfigured my tea party table so it was bigger, which upset me because I wanted to feel like a big girl, so he grudgingly transfigured it back. He must have been so bored, my father isn't one to hide that kind of emotion well, but I was just happy as can be. I told him all about my day, and mused about if Draco was going to let me play with his dragon figurines after know the normal four year old drama."

Graces face took on a sad expression, and Neville watched her on baited breath waiting for her to continue.

"I think of that day a lot," she admitted quietly. "Mostly of what my father said to me. He had been really quiet during the whole affair, but at one point he put down the tea and actually talked to me. He said that he wanted me to know, and always remember, that everything he did was for our family, for my future and that sometimes that required him to be away from me for a while."Graces sniffed and when as she continued to speak Neville could tell that she was straining over emotion in her throat. "He told me that every minute he was away he missed me, Draco and our mother, and that he thought of us always." A few tears escaped from her outer eyes, and Graces quickly wiped them away. "He's been so absent since the end of 4th year. I feel like I have not had my father they way I used to. Like he was being taken away from me, and now he is truly gone and… and I just keep thinking of him in a cell missing us."

"I'm sorry," Neville said gently taking her teared hand in his. "I can't imagine how much you must miss him."

Graces frowned at the statement.

"Don't you miss your parents?"

Neville blushed, and shook his head.

"You can't miss someone you don't know," he said quietly, turning on his back to face the ceiling not wanting to look at the girl next to him any longer. Graces waited for Neville to continue, but then realized that the boy laying next to her was not going to.

"But, surely you visit them, and—"

"I visit shells," Neville stated bitterly. "How can you know someone when they don't even know themselves?"

Graces laid in the hay quietly watching Neville. He seemed so deep in thought, she was afraid to breathe. She wondered what he was thinking of. Obviously, he was thinking of his parents, but she longed to know what he was thinking of them.

"Wha—"

"I really don't want to talk about it," Neville said briskly, turning back so he was almost nose to nose with her and brushing her hair behind her ears gently. "I just want to be here with you right now."

"I told you about my father," Graces protested, wanting to know more.

Neville gave her a small half smile. "Another time, I promise. Just not now."

"Why don't you tell me things about yourself?" Graces frowned pensively.

"Graces, I—"

"No, I- I've noticed things," she maintained sitting up, putting her arms around her chest to hide herself. "You never talk about yourself."

Neville leaned up and stared at Graces for a moment.

"Are you saying you want to know me?"

Graces blushed and gave some sound of exasperation before excusing herself to put on some clothes.

"I rather like you without clothes," Neville called as Graces shut the stall door and threw him his clothes in response. Rolling his eyes, Neville dressed. "Are you avoiding my question?"

Graces didn't answer and after a moment Neville gathered his Gryffindor courage and pulled her back in with him.

"Longbottom!" Graces shrieked, losing her balance and falling back in the hay with him. "I'm still getting dressed!"

"I'm being an ass," Neville proclaimed. Graces stopped her fussing immediately.

"Well, I like the start of this," she said, waiting for him to continue.

"I told you that all you had to do was ask." Neville sighed heavily and thanked the gods that Graces just held him tighter in response. "This is really hard for me. I don't talk about my parents. Most of my house assumes they are just dead, and I… I don't correct the presumption. Honestly, the only reason Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione know is because they went to St. Mungos and saw my parents last christmas."

"They saw your parents?" Graces asked astonished. "What did they say?"

"Nothing," Neville said quietly. "I think they understood I didn't want them to know about it, so it would be best of them to not bring it up."

Neville waited for Graces to have more of a reaction than just a pensive stare, but when none came he continued.

"I don't talk about them. Not to anyone, and if I am being honest I don't really allow myself to truly divulge my feelings about them. You asked if I ever miss them; the simple answer is I don't."

"And the more complicated one?"

"I miss the people I imagine that they used to be everyday."

"And the people they are now?"

Neville looked away, and swallowed some sea of emotion that was gathering in himself.

"Graces, believe me when I say that I want to talk to you about this. That there is no one else I would feel comfortable divulging this to, but right now I can't. I'm not ready. When I said all you had to do was ask if you wanted to know something, I meant it. I just...I… I didn't" Neville let out a deep sigh. "I didn't think it would be this hard. This has nothing to do with you, I want to talk to you. I personally am the one who isn't ready. Can we please change the subject?"

To Neville's immense relief, Graces nodded her head. He kissed her softly on the head, thanking her for being understanding and held her close as they laid in the hay. They laid there in the barn for a few hours neither saying anything, just lazily drifting in their own thoughts. Neville was just starting to nod off when Graces asked.

"How are you planning on dealing with your friends?"

"Just talk to them tomorrow I suppose," Neville murmured, closing his eyes again to let sleep claim him. Unfortunately, Graces was not going to allow that.

"Talk to them?" She asked scandalized, sitting up. "What do you mean talk to them?"

The sandy haired boy groaned, but sat up in the hay.

"I mean—you know—talk to them. Let the apologize, and then forgive them."

Graces was looking at Neville as though he had just declared his love for Snape.

"You're not going to hex them, or anything?"

"Why would I do that?" Neville asked patiently, causing Graces to go a little pink in the face from frustration.

"Because they were total wankers and they deserve it!"

Neville laughed heartily at Graces venomous announcement.

"They are!" Graces wined. "Longbottom, can't we hex them?"

"Oh, so it's we now?" Neville snickered.

Graces smiled. "Well, you're not very used to the whole revenge aspect of life, so I am willing to offer my services."

"Are you now?" Neville asked, both his eyebrows raised in mock surprise.

"Yes," Graces nodded enthusiastically. "This is going to be sooo much fun. I was thinking we could make Ron throw up slugs again. Do you remember first year when that happened? It was glorious! I've always wanted to have Weasel do it again! And for Scarhead we could—"

"I'm not going to let you hex my friends," Neville chuckled.

"Why?" Graces whined.

"Because they're my friends," Neville laughed.

Graces proceeded to pout on the subject, and Neville just smiled at how utterly adorable it was when Graces Malfoy pouted.

"I bet you always got what you wanted growing up," he commented, unable to hide how adorable he thought she was.

The blonde looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, before smiling.

"I'm a Malfoy, we always get what we want," Graces smirked, causing the both of them to laugh good naturedly. It was then that Neville saw her Malfoy-ness come back up. Graces awkwardly became aware of herself, and before Neville could distract her she had already began talking. "I better go, it's late."

"Do you? We could just stay here," he suggested, hoping that Graces would agree to stay the night with him.

Alas, the blonde awkwardly shook her head.

"No, I-I can't," Graces maintained, worrying her lip."I'll see you tomorrow. Good night."

She offered Neville a small, apologetic kiss on the cheek, and promised to see him the next day again before she swept out of the barn. Neville knew that he should probably leave to, that he should go back to the castle and climb into his own bed, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wasn't ready yet to see his friends, and he would much rather lay in Graces' makeshift bed and enjoy her familiar scent around him.

This chapter took me almost a month to finish! I am so glad it is now uploaded haha That being said don't forget to follow/review!