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: As usual thank you to my beta Denarii for editing the chapter! And my BF Aleah for reading it over a few times until it was ready!
Soooo sorry this chapter was late guys! In case you haven't noticed, I am now down to one editor. I think my other one has resigned. She hasn't messaged me back in over a month so that's is what I am taking it as. BUT lucky for me I still have Denarii. Also, I had to adjust some things in this chapter as well, so that and Easter, also added for its tardiness.
Special thanks to Blue Luver5000, Bharm, bekkivobekki, noone297, Manoirmalfoys, TrueColorsNeverFade, Kankananime123, Slytherin99, spannieren, LooseFur, franchesca, eloquent dreams, the-compulsive-tea-drinker, Phoenix, CHarmony49,Scrt Vlntn, Hi, Mararsi, and Guest (haha I'm sorry you were dying for an update, and flattered you were at the same time. I will try to keep on schedule.)
Eloquent dreams: I hope you did well on your finals! And I am glad you enjoyed the chapter! I love hearing you guys' "make up lines games" haha I won't tell you if it's correct or not, but I still fun to hear.
PLEASE READ! If you have not read William Shakespeare's "The Taming of the Shrew" you will miss a joke/important moment between Graces and Neville in this chapter. PLEASE do me a solid and google The Taming of the Shrew Important Quotations Explained/ click on the first link that shows up/ scroll to scene two where there is a discussion about wasps. I just want you all to get the joke
Chapter 28
"Hungry today?" Draco asked as his sister moved to place three more sausages on her plate.
"What are you trying to say, Draco?" Graces demanded, taking a defiant bite of the link.
"That you are eating a lot."
"We had a very challenging run this morning," Graces shrugged, continuing on to her toast.
Draco moved some eggs around on his plate for a few seconds before pushing the dish away. He saw his sister watch him from the corner of his eye and hoped she would just let it go.
"You have to eat."
Nope, not going to let it go.
"I'm just not hungry," Draco said lightly, looking up at the Great Hall ceiling, wanting the owls to arrive already with the Daily Profit.
"You haven't been hungry in days," Graces commented, smiling at a couple first years as they walked by her to take a seat. "Are you trying to starve yourself? Because I have to say, Draco, there are faster ways to go."
Draco rolled his eyes to his sister's antics and began going over his potion notes. He heard a crackling sound and looked over to see Graces unraveling a giant brick of chocolate.
"You're kidding," Draco deadpanned, as she broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth.
"Leave me alone."
"Have you been shagging someone without me knowing it? Are you knocked up or something?" Draco asked, half kidding.
"I told you I have been shagging Longbottom," Graces reminded "But don't worry there is no way he impregnated me. I'm on the potion."
"You're not funny," Draco sighed.
"I wasn't trying to be."
"You know, that is not the way to get me to eat, making me sick to my stomach."
"Maybe you should have a bout with Longbottom. I'm always starved after."
"I hate you."
"You love me."
Draco just smiled down at the table. Bantering with his sister was the only sense of normality he got these days. Even things like Quidditch had lost their luster for him, but having breakfast with Graces and joking around playfully made him feel like he was back in his body and not just an outsider watching as he was controlled. Slowly he pulled his plate of eggs back over to himself, and gave a half smile to Graces as she placed a piece of her chocolate on his plate.
"I'm sorry I'm stressing you out," Draco murmured, forcing another bite of eggs down.
"You're not stressing me out," Graces lied, melting some chocolate over her fruit.
"You're eating more chocolate than usual, and that is saying something considering you eat I think a full brick a day. You tend to drown your bad feelings in chocolate. I'm stressing you out."
"OR I just like chocolate."
"You threw up after our run."
"That was because I pushed myself too hard. Getting ready for the match this weekend and all. It was a mix of pushing too hard and nerves."
"Right," Draco nodded. "It had nothing to do with the seven chocolate frogs, three ice mice, a handful of Bertie Bott's and a cup of cocoa."
Graces narrowed her eyes and stopped melting the chocolate on her fruit.
"Well, that and I'm carrying around the next Longbottom heir. I guess I'm just having some cravings and morning sickness."
"You're such a bitch," Draco declared, smiling up at the ceiling. "I really hate you right now."
"You don't want a nephew or niece?" Graces teased, nudging her brother's shoulders.
"Not right now!" Draco exclaimed. "And definitely not from Longbottom."
Graces had a bout of laughter, before calming down and reassuring her brother that she was not pregnant.
"Like I said, I'm on the potion. So no worries there."
"Just stop talking," Draco laughed. "As the patriarch of this family I demand you stop talking until I finish my tea."
Graces stuck out her tongue, and Draco was about to begin lecturing her on reasons why ladies don't stick out their tongue when he noticed the post arriving. He paid for his paper and was about to start reading in his newly claimed silence when he noticed a white box being delivered to Graces. He looked at the familiar logo stained on the white canvas, and rolled his eyes.
"You ordered more clothes?" he asked, taking a sip of tea. "I thought you had enough after your shopping spree with Pansy before school."
Graces seemed genuinely confused by the box, and merely shook her head.
"You didn't order this? Or you didn't have enough?"
"I-I didn't order this."
Draco frowned and look down at the box again.
"Should I open it?" Graces asked nervously.
"Don't be silly," Draco scoffed, finishing his tea. "The packages are being checked very thoroughly now after the incident this weekend. Get excited, someone has sent you clothes. I'm surprised Pansy hasn't come over and—"
"What did you order‽"
"Nope, the surprise is gone," Draco muttered under his breath as the dark haired girl scooted him over so she could sit next to Graces as she opened the package.
Graces smiled as Pansy and a few other girls came over to see what she got. In truth she loved being the center of attention, so she was glad the sender sent her the package during breakfast. She decided to take her time opening the parcel, slowly untying the string and delicately moving the paper back.
Everyone else was preoccupied with giggling excitedly at the new blouse laying inside the box, but Graces was just staring down at the note. The note that had Shakespeare's Sonnet 18 written down on it.
It was her favorite. Of course, no one knew it was her favorite. She couldn't very well go around telling everyone that a Sonnet written by a muggle made her cry, but it was. Graces had just finished reading the sonnet, when she realized that there were a few notes written specifically to her at the bottom.
You do not have a better temperament than summer.
Graces smiled at the words and it took all her effort not to look over to where Neville was sitting.
"Who is it from?"
Graces leaned back in her seat and looked over at Draco.
"It's not signed, I don't know."
Draco raised an eyebrow and looked at the piece of paper in Graces hand.
"It's a poem," Graces said, folding the paper and tucking it in her robes.
"Can I read it?"
"No," Graces whispered looking around. "What would he think if he saw me just passing around the note he wrote me? Honestly, Draco."
"Can I read it later tonight?"
Graces blushed and bit her lip, before shaking her head slowly.
"Is it inappropriate?" Draco scowled, looking around the Slytherin table.
"No! Nothing like that. Just—"
"Oh leave her be, Draco," Blaise cut in. "She wants to keep her letter private, let her. Poems are a private thing."
It was obvious Draco did not like Blaise's orders, and for a moment Graces wondered if he would demand to see it to show some higher authority, but luckily Draco seemed to decide there was some wisdom in his words and just rolled his eyes.
"We should head over to class, I want to set up early so I can review the notes before we start brewing."
"Just let me finish up my breakfast," Graces requested. "I'll meet you there."
Draco nodded and left the Great Hall. The other girls all had gone back to where they were sitting, leaving just Pansy and Blaise alone with Graces.
"So," Pansy prompted smiling, "what did it say?"
Graces blushed and looked away. "You know… just pretty things."
"Such as?" Blaise pushed.
"He-he started off comparing me to something pretty," a summer's day "but then continued on to say that I was better than that thing." Except in temperament apparently. "And-and that my beauty would forever be eternal. That death and time could never take it away so long as men can breathe and see, I would eternally be remembered beautiful." It was silly, but Graces couldn't bring herself to look up and see her friends reactions. It all sounded so sappy out loud, and she felt silly that she was blushing so deeply, and that her stomach was filled to the brim with butterflies.
"Oh, Graces!" Pansy squealed excitedly. "He sounds absolutely smitten with you!"
"You think?" Graces asked, now glancing up at her friend.
"Of course, boys don't send that sort of thing unless they are!"
"Or unless they want to get in your knickers," Blaise cut in, eyeing Graces. "Don't be stupid enough to fall for beautifully strung together sentences, Gray. He said you were beautiful, any bloke alive can call you beautiful."
"Blaise!" Pansy scolded, smacking the dark skinned boy over the head. "Will you shut up!"
"I'm being honest. Don't start behaving like some silly girl over a bloke calling you pretty. Did he say he loved you?"
Graces shook her head. Thank the gods he didn't.
"Did he ask you out properly? Or talk to Draco about courting you? Then that settles it."
"Blaise, you are such an ass sometimes," Pansy growled, putting a comforting arm over her friend. "Not everyone thinks courting should be so formal."
"Graces does though," Blaise pointed out. "She's extremely traditional. I just don't want her becoming some silly girl that falls for poems and ends up disappointed. Men tend to enjoy beautiful women, but that doesn't mean they want to invest anything long term in them."
"I'm not that traditional," Graces argued, watching as Neville began to walk towards the doors to the Great Hall, Luna skipping along next to him.
"Nothing wrong with being traditional," Blaise commented, sending Pansy a glare so she didn't argue.
"But no one would be upset, Draco included, if you wanted to be more modern."
"Can you really speak for Draco?" Blaise asked.
"He did start letting Nott and her see each other alone towards the end of their relationship," Pansy reminded, clearly getting irritated with the Slytherin boy. "Graces, who do you think sent the package?"
"I—uh—I really don't know."
"Do you think it was the boy you were trying to—ouch!" Pansy rubbed her shin where Graces had kicked her and stared darkly at her friend.
"I have no clue," Graces insisted.
Blaise looked like he was about to pry further into Graces' personal life, but before he was able to ask any questions a hard knock on the table made all three Slytherins look up. Thomas was passing the table with a group of third years, and knocked on the wood to grab at Graces attention to wave a good morning before scurrying off to class.
"Higgs! Of course!" Pansy squealed.
"Wha- no, no, no, no. I'm sure it wasn—"
"Oh, come off it," Pansy giggled. "Everyone can tell he's mad for you! Not to mention we all saw the picture he left for you when you were in the hospital wing. It all makes sense. Not to mention he's totally the type that would write a poem to you. Quiet, mysterious, likes things like drawing, and—"
"Pansy, do shut up," Blaise groaned, not wanting to hear anymore.
"Don't tell me to shut up!"
"It's not Thomas," Graces hissed.
"You don't know who it is, darling. It could very well be Higgs," Pansy said, patting Graces hand. "Higgs would be fun for you. He's handsome, smart—"
"A child," Graces snapped, tearing her hands away. "He's a child."
"Please," Pansy scoffed. "He's only a few years younger than you."
Blaise sat looking at Graces for a few moments.
"He's not an heir," he said slowly. "Nothing could come of it. Your brother wouldn't allow you to marry a boy that is nowhere near the head of a family. Thomas Higgs is, what, like 30th in line? Maybe more. A lot of men would have to die to make him the head of house. Draco wants you with an heir, gives you a bit of power as the matriarch of the family. It's no wonder he didn't sign the card. He is probably just as aware that no one would allow it."
"Too bad," Blaise shrugged. "I rather like Higgs. Anyways, point is you don't have to worry about it. If breaking the poor sap's heart is your worry, he is probably aware he could never be with you. No need to get so worked up, Gray."
Graces groaned and gathered her things for class. She hurried along, not wanting to walk with her friends at the moment while they discussed Thomas' apparent love for her. She knew it wasn't Thomas. It had to be Neville. Only Neville would have placed a Shakespearean poem in the box for her.
"Good morning."
Graces looked to her side to see Neville had just joined her in walking to class.
"What are you doing?" she hissed. "You can't walk to class with me."
"Just saying good morning, Malfoy, no need to get nasty."
"Get lost, Longbottom."
"Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry."
Graces halted in the middle of the hall.
"You, you—"
"I'll see you in class," Neville whispered, hurrying up the corridor. "Oh, and so you know, I am no gentleman."
Graces blushed at the joke and just watched Neville disappear into the Potions classroom.
He read "The Taming of the Shrew".
It's not that big of a deal.
It is. He apparently has read at least one sonnet, and now he's read—
It's just a silly book.
A silly book he read for me...
"Miss Malfoy, is there a reason you are not in my classroom?"
Graces turned to see Severus Snape striding towards the classroom, and quickly rushed in before the Potions professor.
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Neville had thought today was going to be his day. First he had sent Graces that package and watched her smile and blush all through breakfast, then he had been exceptionally suave in the hall with her. Life was pretty good this morning, until Potions started.
Of course it would be a difficult potion, and of course Snape would be looming over his shoulder the whole time. He had actually cut his finger while dicing some of the ingredients, he had been shaking so badly. Hermione was trying to be helpful during it all, but her constant fast-paced whispering just made his heart race with anxiety.
"Once again you have proven your incompetence, Mr. Longbottom," Snape continued slowly, a malicious glint in his eye as he evaluated the melted cauldron. "Surprising, because Miss Malfoy is a fine tutor, but you probably rarely pay attention to the girl. Like all Gryffindors you ignore the fine art of potion brewing, and just demand others with skill waste time on you."
Neville looked past Snape's middle to see Graces watching stone faced with the rest of the class. Draco, obviously pleased with Neville's humiliation, leaned down with a vicious smile and whispered something into her ear. It was silly how much it hurt him to see Graces smirk at the comment, but it did. He knew it was all a part of the rouse, but it still stung to see it.
"You can spend your lunch hour here, Longbottom. You could do well to skip a meal," he added, a small smile as the Slytherins all began laughing.
Neville couldn't even look up as the rest of the class made their way to leave after being dismissed. He could feel his humiliation burning against his neck and cheeks, and just wanted to be alone. Unfortunately, Hermione lingered beside him despite how slowly he was packing up.
"You were doing well until the end," Hermione comforted. Neville nodded, but continued to look down. "You really were," she continued to stress. "Don't let Snape get to you. He had no right saying anything about your app—"
"Hermione, thanks, but can we not talk about it?" Neville asked quietly.
The silence that settled around him was answer enough, and Neville continued to pack up, all the while writing the letter he was going to have to send to his gran in his head.
Dear Gran,
I hope you are doing well, and that you got our neighbor to help you dig up that stump since you insist on not waiting for me to come home to handle it. I'm really sorry to have to trouble you, but could you send over another cauld—
"Malfoy at 12 o'clock," Hermione muttered.
"What are we doing with Malfoy at 12 o'clock?" Neville asked confused, looking up for the first time and seeing Graces standing in front of him. At first he just stood there in shock. Graces was not one to just approach him during school. She usually sent owls to talk to him about meeting, and if she did approach him with an audience she was sure to behave "appropriately" towards him. But she was just standing there quietly waiting for him to notice her presence.
"Hi," he blurted out, realizing that Graces was seeming to be uncomfortable too with this new scenario.
Graces nodded and surveyed the table that was caked with crusted emerald green potion. Neville thought being humiliated in front of the class was going to the the worst thing that could possibly happen today, but the look of sincere disappointment on Graces' face topped that.
"Are you aware of what you did wrong?" she asked quietly, taking her wand and poking the melted edge of the cauldron. Neville shook his head in embarrassment, and waited for the blonde to continue.
"Do-do you want me to go through what I did?" Neville asked, unable to take the silence as Graces continued scanning the mess emotionlessly.
"No. It's obvious where you went wrong."
Neville wished that for one day he could be as smart as the rest of his class. He wasn't asking to be Graces or Hermione, just to do as well as maybe Dean or something. If he was able to get through a potion with it just being a wrong color, or having some imperfections, then he wouldn't be standing there feeling like the most simple man to ever walk the earth. Neville made himself swallow some of the emotions he was feeling, knowing that if he continued thinking of it all he would end up not only appearing stupid in front of Graces but crying as well.
He suddenly felt a gentle hand on his and looked to see Hermione still standing with him, glaring at Graces. Neville looked to see how Graces was taking Hermione's hostility, and saw the blonde look briefly at Hermione's hand over his and immediately Neville moved his hand away. Hermione looked over at him hurt for a brief moment, but quickly recovered herself.
"He's trying," she insisted. "And if you're so crestfallen over his progress than you should just have someone else tutor him!"
Graces looked at Hermione for a moment, as though she were bored already from her rant, and then turned back to Neville.
"Tonight, after eight. I have Quidditch practice, or I would meet earlier."
"Okay," Neville agreed, his earlier confidence gone. Graces didn't seem to care to stay a moment longer, nor did she bother to tell him what she wanted him to review before exiting the classroom, hurrying to her next class.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked.
Neville nodded his head, he knew he didn't look okay, that he had never been good at not wearing his emotion on his sleeve, but he hoped Hermione would just take his lie and not say anything.
"It's not that big of a deal," she comforted as they walked towards their next class, already late. "Do you want me to tutor you again? It doesn't seem like Malfoy is doing a good job, and—"
"She's doing a good job," Neville sighed. "I am just an idiot, a fat idiot."
"You're not an idiot, nor are you fat, Neville," Hermione snapped sharply. "You have been doing a lot to improve this year. You've been reading all kinds of books, spending hours being tutored with Malfoy, and you have lost a considerable amount of weight it seems. Yeah, you're still a smidge overweight, but you are not fat. Snape was being cruel. Remember what he said about my teeth after I got hexed? They were growing past my chin, and he said he couldn't tell the difference to how I looked before. Take what he says with a grain of salt."
Neville nodded and gave Hermione a small half smile. The rest of the walk to class passed in awkward silence. Neville preferred it over awkward conversation, but he could tell from the way Hermione was clutching her books to her chest that she didn't quite agree. Still, Neville refused to break it. He didn't want to hear a list of reasons why he shouldn't feel bad. He did feel bad, and he didn't want anyone telling him that he shouldn't feel what he was feeling. He was just humiliated in front of the girl he was interested in, and he saw nothing wrong with feeling that humiliation at the moment. He just hoped he would feel better come tonight.
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"I'll be late tonight, don't wait up."
"Graces, how long is it going to take you to brew a potion with Longbottom?" Draco asked exasperated. "You're going to be exhausted. We just finished practice, you should just go to bed."
"I'm not even tired. If anything I'm full of energy after flying." Graces lifted the rest of her bags over her shoulders, and kissed Draco's cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, good night."
"At least let me take your quidditch bag," Draco sighed. "No sense in you taking your practice gear with you to tutor Longbottom. You should just leave it in your locker."
"Then I can't get it if I want to go for a midnight ride," Graces winked, leaving down the corridor, and giggling as Draco shouted about how she was not to do any midnight riding this year alone.
Graces was practically running down the hall to see Neville. A few times she had to actually stop herself and take a moment before continuing. Malfoys did not rush off like this. They walked elegantly to their destination. And yet she wanted to rush. She felt like there was a bubble expanding in her chest, a bubble filled to the brim with something that made her want to giggle. She felt euphoric.
Earlier during potions she hadn't had this feeling. Neville botching that potion made her realize that she had neglected him in many ways. He had asked her for tutoring, and she had barely taught him anything. It was a wonder the scar on her palm hadn't opened up.
But I'm going to start teaching him now, she vowed silently entering the abandoned classroom to see desk upon desk with melted cauldrons, while Neville stood over a fourth one obviously trying to make the potion correctly.
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Neville had done everything correctly. He was sure. He had gone through each step of the potion perfectly. He took time with everything he was cutting. He watched the time down to the second before entering anything in. He waved his wand correctly and yet cauldron after cauldron melted, creating the same mess from earlier that day.
"Do you know what the definition of insanity is," a gentle voice asked, while familiar arms wrapped around him. Neville frowned and waited for Graces to continue. "It is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result."
"I have done everything exactly as I was supposed to," Neville growled, not at all happy with how amused Graces sounded. "The color is perfect, and the smoke collection at the brim of the cauldron are all indications it was done correctly."
"Mmmm," Graces hummed, resting her head against his back. "Then there is only one conclusion to be made."
"Sorry, but it's not obvious to all of us what that is," Neville gritted bitterly, shrugging Graces off him.
Graces didn't seemed deterred in the least by Neville's mood. She merely sat on the desk where the potion was brewing and watched Neville add the last of the ingredients.
"You started without me," she commented, swinging her legs about. Neville nodded, and continued monitoring the potion. "Why?"
"I wanted to do it on my own."
"But you said you didn't know where you went wrong," Graces pointed out slowly.
"It doesn't make sense," Neville frowned. "I did it all perfectly, and it seems perfect until the last few minutes."
"Because you didn't do it perfectly," Graces shrugged, taking out a sugar quill and sucking on it.
Neville eyed her for a moment, before asking her to get off the desk.
"Why?" Graces asked, continuing in her antics.
"I don't want you getting hurt when the cauldron melts."
"It won't melt."
"You don't think so?" Neville asked, now obviously irritated.
"I know so, because you are going to place a temperature stabilizing spell for the last few minutes to ensure it stays at a low simmer."
Neville glared at the blonde.
"It has been simmering,"
"It hasn't been," Graces maintained, watching the potion. "Look, it's going to start sputtering here. If it does that it shows the temperature was not maintained at a low simmer, and thus was done incorrectly."
"What's the difference? It's still a simmer and-"
"The difference is everything," Graces continued patiently. "Think of when a child has a fever of 101 and it turns to a fever of 103."
"It's just two degrees."
"Those two degrees mean life and death," Graces argued, frowning over how Neville could not realize how important two degrees were. " A fever of 101 is killing off what is making the child sick, 103 is killing the child. Merlin, Longbottom, I hope your future wife knows these things or the Longbottom line is doomed."
"It's already doomed," Neville whispered lowly, turning back and looking at all the ruined cauldrons. He had worked non-stop, even through dinner, and he had not been able to catch his mistake. Potion after potion ruined. He needed someone to come in and say what he did wrong, he was too dense to figure it out on his own. What was he supposed to do when the questions were regarding his family? How was he supposed to guide them with no guidance. He wasn't a leader. He should never have been made patriarch. And as for continuing his line, what woman would want him?
Neville felt Graces take his hand and slowly pull him towards her. He didn't really want to get close to her at the moment, but he shuffled forward until he was standing before her as she sat on the desk. It was odd how a simple touch could make him feel at ease, but when Graces wrapped her arms around his neck he let out a sigh.
"I'm sorry," he began. "I'm frustrated and taking it out on you."
Graces didn't seem interested in his apology though. She just continued to gently play with the hair near his neck, her fingers teasing his skin with gentle touch before pulling him down to her and kissing him.
"You did well," Graces whispered kindly. " One mistake isn't bad. Before you would have made many more. You are improving. Potions is a skill that requires precision. Yet, despite my neglectful tutoring, you are improving." Neville just nodded silently at Graces' words. It didn't feel like he was improving. It felt like things were much the same. He botched a potion and Snape belittled him. All the same.
"I am going to be a better tutor," Graces promised, kissing him again and lingering near Neville's lips. "You deserve better. If I had been tutoring you regularly you would have known."
"I don't really mind the way we spend our time," Neville smiled, sliding Graces near him.
"Would you like a lesson in temperature, Mr. Longbottom?" Graces asked seductively.
Neville, having an idea of what Graces was hinting at, just nodded, moving closer to her as her hands ran up and down his chest over his shirt.
"Wonderful," Graces smiled, and before Neville could protest, the blonde hopped off the table and ran to her bag. She took out bars upon bars of chocolate and three different cauldrons.
"You mean we are actually having a lesson?" Neville groaned, his trousers still tight around him.
"I said I was going to be a better tutor," Graces reminded, excitedly unwrapping each bar and distributing them evenly between the three cauldrons. "Come on, Longbottom, there is chocolate involved. It will be fun."
With a loud groan, Neville took a seat next to Graces on the ground.
"Should I clean off a table?" he asked.
"The ground is fine, let the elves take care of the other mess."
Neville smiled at Graces' logic and wondered what it would be like for Graces and Hermione to have a discussion on house elves.
"We are going to temper chocolate at three different temperatures," Graces said excitedly. "The first is going to be the correct temperature, but we will leave the chocolate in just a little longer than we should. The second we shall do everything correctly. And the third it will be just barely too hot."
Neville nodded and followed the instructions Graces gave him on the temperature to keep the chocolate at. Graces spelled the bars to break apart and after that they sat waiting as the milk chocolate melted into pools of liquid.
"I never thanked you for the gift," Graces said quietly, watching the experiment. "It's lovely. You didn't have to do that though."
"I wanted to."
"It's a little extravagant, isn't it? I mean, the Longbottom clan doesn't usually spend money like that, and well, you are not nearly as well off as other pureblood families."
Neville raised an eyebrow at Graces' statement and turned back to the cauldrons.
"I'm by no means poor, Graces."
"I didn't mean that," Graces blushed. "It's just that—well—that shirt was more expensive than the one ruined and—"
"It was a gift, that really isn't your concern," Neville pointed out, smiling at how worried Graces seemed over it.
"I know. It's just that, I feel odd knowing that you spent that kind of gold on me, and—"
"It was my gold to spend," Neville pointed out.
"Your family needs to rebuild. Money may be the guarantee you need for those alliances. You may have to agree to donate to organizations, fund families that you are wishing to join with or start up that business that I suggested. You would need to buy out the other companies to form a monopoly. Not to mention you would need to build greenhouses and possibly gain more land. You will need that money. You don't have money like the rest of the other purebloods, and—"
"Graces," Neville said patiently. "I am very aware of my family's financial situation, but I am going to insist you not worry about it. It is my concern, and to be honest it's a bit uncomfortable for me to be discussing with you."
Graces nodded, and fell silent.
"Madame Blanc is my godmother, did you know that?"
"What?"
"She was my mum's best friend," Neville nodded. "She made her wedding dress."
"You don't dress like Madame Blanc is your godmother," Graces frowned, looking at Neville's striped sweater.
"Now, now, Graces, don't get mean," Neville chuckled. "She sends me things, but I just prefer my clothes over them. I do wear them when she visits, but she doesn't visit often. She isn't a very involved godmother. I can't blame her really, owning a corporation and all." Neville decided not to add that also she probably didn't want to be reminded constantly of where her best friend was now.
"She hates Malfoys," Graces frowned. "She refuses to make anything custom for my mother and I. Though I suppose it makes sense now why, considering who we are related to. How did you get her to send this?"
Neville chuckled. "I didn't tell her. I ordered it and had it shipped to me, then when you didn't show in the greenhouse, I sent it to you through a school owl. Of course someone told her that I ordered it, and now she is insisting I take the money back and wanting to know who it was for."
"What did you tell her?"
"The truth, my friend Hannah ruined your shirt and I decided to replace it."
"You could be a Slytherin, Longbottom."
"I prefer to be in the house that wins Quidditch games, thankyouverymuch," Neville winked.
"Who's being mean now?" Graces cried, pushing Neville over and laughing.
"Just saying, we beat you snakes every year."
"Not this year," Graces smirked. "No way we are letting you all get to us this year."
"Get to you? What on earth are you talking about?" Neville asked laughing. "You're the ones that play dirty."
"We don't play dirty," Graces argued. "We play as expected. Slytherins have a tendency to bend and occasionally break rules as we see convenient. Hooch is the one that is supposed to be keeping things like that in check. It's not our fault that she isn't good at her job."
"Unbelievable," Neville scoffed. "You're twisted. Has anyone ever told you that?"
"Please," Graces snorted, rolling her eyes. "This whole school is twisted. Slytherins just are obvious about our twisted tendencies. We don't do it backhandedly." Graces frowned for a moment. "Well, not usually unless it's for revenge or something."
"How is the whole school twisted?"
"On game day every house is going to dress in Gryffindor colors. Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff are going to rally behind your house and scream their support to you. Do you have any idea what it's like to walk on the field and be drowned in a sea of the opposing teams color. Our house is already the smallest."
"I never thought about it like that," Neville frowned, thinking of Luna's lion head and how she once commented that she was going to have it eat a snake, but didn't have the time to make/spell it. It was just so common for the other houses to side with one another when their teams were playing against Slytherin. He even had a Ravenclaw scarf for the occasion.
"No need to look so guilty," Graces laughed. "We've learned to just feed on it through the years. We let it fuel us for the game. Also, it makes us feel justified when we play dirty. You all mess with us psychologically so we mess with you all. Fair is fair."
"Do-do you all feel excluded?"
"Mmm what do you mean?" Graces asked, leaning over the cauldron and stirring.
"You know," Neville shrugged. "Excluded."
Graces looked up at Neville thoughtfully for a moment, before going back to the cauldron, smiling.
"You need to learn to be more articulate, Mr. Longbottom," Graces teased, now pulling the cauldron off the heat.
"You need to learn how to not evade questions that make you uncomfortable."
"I cannot say if the Slytherin house feels excluded. I am only one person in the house, therefore I shouldn't speak for the house as a whole."
"Is political sidestepping taught in your house? No wonder you all have so many politicians."
Neville grinned as Graces stuck her tongue out at him and wished they could behave like this all the time.
"The chocolate is all ready!" Graces sang, clapping her hands excitedly.
"You really have an insane sweet tooth," Neville commented, watching Graces scoop a generous portion on her finger.
"I don't understand people that don't have sweet tooths," Graces said offhandedly. "I mean, who doesn't like things because they are too sweet. It's like saying you don't like something that is too good."
"Some people do not think sweet equates to good."
"They must have been confunded as a child," Graces surmised, sucking the chocolate off her finger. "You're staring, Mr. Longbottom," Graces teased, taking her time as she finished her treat.
"You're doing that on purpose," Neville blushed.
"Well, now I am," Graces giggled. "Here, try that cauldron right there."
Neville nodded and tried the chocolate to the far right.
"That's awful," he gagged, spelling some water from his wand to drink and groaning as it splashed on him.
Graces seemed to be enjoying the scene, and Neville wondered if she was a bit of a sadist as she excitedly made him try the next batch which was equally as awful.
"Now, try this one," Graces instructed, moving so that she was now straddling Neville on the stone floor. Neville could feel a familiar heat beginning to spread in his belly as Graces dipped her finger into the chocolate and brought it to his lips. Hesitantly he tried the chocolate, not because he was worried about the taste, but because he didn't want to appear over zealous. "How does it taste?"
"Good," Neville breathed, his head beginning cloud.
"Temperature matters," Graces whispered, the tip of her tongue teasing his outer ear. "The other cauldrons were only off by a few degrees. The first one off the degrees from the start, and the second one left at the correct temperature for too long causing some to burn. Do you understand now, Mr Longbottom? Or should I give you another lesson?" Graces asked seductively.
"Only if it doesn't involve you moving away," Neville mumbled, his voice husky with need.
"Simmering," Graces murmured, kissing Neville longingly. "Sputtering," she continued, running her tongue along his lower lip until he granted her entrance. "Boiling," she concluded, bringing her hand down inside his trousers and stroking his throbbing length.
Neville closed his eyes at the touch. He knew Graces was watching him, that she seemed to be very interested in his reaction to her, and he tried to maintain himself but the more she touched and explored the more erratic his breathing became.
"I want you," Graces breathed against his ear, her hand never ceasing the movements that were currently undoing him and moving to unbutton his trousers.
And it was somewhere in between Graces' giggles over the difficulty he was having with taking off her sports bra and her outright laughter when he he grew frustrated with her quidditch pants when he realized Graces had not once tonight hidden herself from him.
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Please don't forget to follow/review! I know it wasn't an action pact chapter, but I felt they needed some down time ;) Also here is a time line for you all.
1st week of September
Chapter one
3rd week of September
Chapter two, three, and four
Chapter three was Neville and Graces encounter in the Greenhouse.
4th week of September
Chapter five, six, seven, and eight.
5th week of September
Chapter nine and ten and eleven 12 13
1st week of October
Chapter 14, 15,16, 17, (14,15,16,and 17 are the same day) 18, 19, 20,21, 22(20, 21 and 22 are the same day), 23, 24, 25, 26 (25 and 26 Saturday), 27 (Beginning of 27 is Sunday.)
2nd week of October
Chapter 27, 28