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: Big thank you to my beta Denarii for editing the chapter! And my BF Aleah for reading it over for me!

Special thanks to A Crey, noone297, Lady-Finwe, Bharm, Manoirmalfoys, Blue Luver5000, spannieren, Candyluver2121, eloquent dreams, Phoenix, Lizzy B, Shannon, and iamacola for their reviews!

And to noone297 for her helpful suggestions, which I will be sure to implement later.

Chapter 31

Neville had been waiting in the abandoned classroom for well over two hours, making him regret his decision to leave the pitch before seeing Graces leave herself. He had changed out of his Slytherin ensemble and decided to wear something a bit more… stylish for a change, a decision that made him feel more awkward than he cared to admit.

Then again nothing really could make the sandy-haired boy feel at ease. He was in love. He was in love with Graces Malfoy. It happened so fast. He had thought he would have more time. Things with Graces were more complicated half the time than good. He had thought it would come slowly, not all at once. Then again, maybe it didn't come all at once. Maybe this whole time he had been closer to loving her than he realized. Maybe, like Graces, he liked to fool himself into thinking they were not so far gone.

Neville took a long, deep breath trying to calm the fluttering in his chest that had started after his realization earlier. Loving someone was an incredibly intense feeling. It was amazing in so many ways to feel that kind of devotion to another person and terrifying because of how much that person meant. His heart was off with Graces Malfoy, Graces who soars high into the air and falls off her broomstick at Quidditch matches. In those few moments Neville had lived an eternity.

He thought she was done, that he would have to watch as she plummeted to the ground and broke apart like a glass doll. The woman he loved turning into nothing more than a body to be buried. It was the worst feeling he had ever experienced. A whole life where Graces was dead and gone flashed into his mind, and in those few seconds he realized he was going to go on living his life lifeless.

It was an intense realization to have your whole life's happiness wound up in another person, a person you had no control over. He couldn't lock Graces up in a dungeon to keep her safe, but he now understood why people died of broken hearts. Because if Graces had fallen to her death, he had no doubt his heart would have shattered along with her. Neville shook the thought away not wanting to even think about the feelings that had welled up inside him as he watched her dangle from that broom handle.

Slowly he took some deep breaths through his nose, determined to ride out this nauseous feeling that had now overcome him with such thoughts.

Just think of something else. Don't be sick. Don't be sick. She's okay. She's okay, and she will be here soon. She will be here soon and I will be able to hold her and kiss her, but if I get sick I won't be able to do either. So calm down, Neville.

"Good evening, Mr. Longbottom." Neville opened his eyes, and let out another long slow breath but this time for very different reasons. Graces was breathtaking. "Don't you look handsome," she smiled playfully walking forward and getting a better look. "Very debonair. Now I believe that Madame Blanc is your godmother."

"Decent pants and a nice black shirt was all it took?" Neville chuckled, turning around as Graces circled him.

"That is not just a shirt," Graces scoffed, smiling despite herself. "The way you say it it sounds like you're just wearing a T, and not a nice button down."

"A shirt's a shirt," Neville smiled, rolling his eyes.

"If you believed that you wouldn't have worn this one."

"Maybe I just wore it for you." That earned him a very sweet blush from the blonde. "You look stunning by the way," Neville continued, moving closer to her being careful not to touch her arm as he pulled her near. "Almost stunning enough to make me forget that you almost killed yourself."

"Well, that was a quick turn," Graces frowned.

"I don't particularly like watching you dangle from a broom, or seeing your arm wrapped up like this. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about winning the game. Don't be so fussy. I'm fine, aren't I?"

"You could have died."

"Oh, come on, Longbottom. Do you honestly think no one would have saved us before we hit the ground? Don't be silly. There were hundreds of wands out in the stands." Neville hummed some form of continued annoyance, to which Graces just smiled at. "I played well didn't I? Did you see me saving those goals?"

"I did. You were very good," Neville admitted reluctantly.

"Did you cheer each time for me?"

"Of course," Neville conceded gently, no longer giving Graces a pointed glare for her foolishness. "I cheered for every single save, and even when you and Draco got the snitch," Neville added, leaning down to kiss Graces.

"Oh, no no no, you can't kiss me!"Graces exclaimed jumping out of his arms.

Neville frowned and put his arms down, feeling slightly humiliated at the rejections.

"And why, may I ask, not?"

"Lipstick. I'm wearing red lipstick, didn't you notice?"

"Trust me, Graces. There is not one aspect of how you look right now that I did not notice."

"Well, you can't kiss me while I'm wearing lipstick," Graces repeated, blushing and looking away. " You'll mess it all up, and I want to look nice for the party. I won't have time to fix it up again. I have to meet Pansy, we're walking out to it together. It's going to be in the forest, and considering I was a main part of winning the game I want to look my best."

"That is an evil trick," Neville scolded playfully. "Here you are with a color on your lips that make them look, if possible, even more deliciously kissable and you're telling me I can't kiss you?" Graces just giggled and nodded smugly. "That's just cruel, Miss Malfoy, even for you."

"It really is a shame isn't it? Especially, because today of all days you deserve a kiss."

"Now, you're just teasing me," Neville groaned, as Graces came close to him and fiddled with the ends of his collar as though they needed to be fixed.

"No, I'm really not," Graces mused, leaning into him so that one of her long legs was right between his. Giving this air of proximity that had Neville's head clouded to the point where he didn't realize she was unbuttoning the right cuff of his shirt until he felt his wrist exposed to the open air.

"What are you doing?" Neville asked huskily, unable to hide the arousal in his voice.

"You deserve a kiss," Graces reminded innocently. "I'm giving you one."

Neville held his breath as Graces leaned down and kissed the pulse on his wrist, leaving a red cherry stain of her lips on his skin.

"I think this is better don't you?" Graces asked, looking up at Neville from her long eyelashes. "You can keep it for the night. It won't just go away, it will linger." Neville unsure of what to say, and still not quite sure how to breathe again, just nodded as Graces began to button up the cuffs on his sleeves. "Just keep it covered," she reminded gently.

Even without the sight of the kiss, Neville could feel the blood in his veins begin to boil. He wanted to kiss Graces now even more than before. Something was just so alluring about the thought of ravishing her lips, and messing up her so put together look. Not to mention he didn't mind if her lipstick ended up on him, especially if it ended up in other areas…

"So Montague gets to kiss you all he wants on the field in front of the whole school, and I have to settle for a gentle kiss goodnight?" Neville asked, moving closer into her.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy in your voice, Mr. Longbottom?" Graces asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because, as we discussed many a times, I am not your girlfriend."

"Nooo, you're not," Neville conceded slowly. "But we did agree to remain monogamous. I think you would hex me if you saw me kissing some girl on a field for all to see."

Graces stopped her teasing and looked at Neville thoughtfully.

"It really did bother you, didn't it?"

"A bit," Neville shrugged. "I know it wasn't romantic, that it was a spur of the moment thing on his part, and that you were caught off guard, but I can't say I enjoyed seeing another bloke kiss you."

"I didn't kiss him back," Graces swore, moving so that she was closer to Neville, but not touching him.

"I know you didn't. Like I said, I know it wasn't anything romantic, but still…"

"Graham stole that kiss," Graces stated, watching Neville carefully. "I did not give it to him. Don't let it bother you. He means very little to me."

"Does that mean I mean something more to you?"

"It means Graham means little to me," Graces repeated, sending a pointed look to Neville that told him not to press her any further.

Neville smiled and nodded his head. He knew not to press, and he also knew that her saying Graham means little to her was meant to comfort him, meaning he meant something to her.

"I hate when you smile like that," Graces pouted folding her arms, and moving away.

"Like what?"

"Like you think you know something."

"Well, I definitely know something," Neville laughed. "For example, I know I have impeccable taste when it comes to women's blouses, because you, my dear, look amazing." Graces smiled bashfully, and looked down to try and conceal her flattery. Slowly, Neville took her hand and pulled her close to him.

"I'm dying to kiss you, Graces," he whispered, moving his hand to her chin and tilting it upward. "If you have any humanity in you, you'll end my suffering and let me kiss you."

"You'll have lipstick all over your mouth," Graces breathed, clearly becoming intoxicated off Neville's proximity.

"I'm sure it will wash off," Neville murmured, inching closer to Graces' lips. He was just about to kiss her. Kiss her in ways that made her forget all about the Slytherin party, and make her choose to stay there with him for the evening continuing on, when the door to the classroom banged open, causing both of them to jump apart from one another.

"Wh-what are you two doing here?" Hermione asked, completely dismayed at walking in on the pair of them together. Neville frowned at Hermione's appearance. Tears were still rolling down her cheeks, and her eyes were bloodshot.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Neville asked, moving towards his friend concerned.

"I-I'm fine," Hermione said hollowly, still staring at the pair of them. "Why are you two in here alone?"

"That doesn't seem to be any of your business, Granger," Graces said coolly.

Hermione looked over at the blonde for a long time, clearly taking in her full appearance. The tight fitted jeans, the black blouse that hugged her curves and showed off her collar, the necklace that was glinting just below her breasts, the smoky eyes, and red lipstick.

"Neville?" Hermione asked, looking at the boy in front of her as though he were a stranger.

Neville didn't have a clue what he could say. It was definitely odd that he and Graces were alone in the classroom together so well dressed, standing so close.

"Neville, what's going on?" Hermione persisted.

"I, uh, well, there were two parts of the bet…" Neville stammered blushing.

"What was the other part?" Hermione asked, looking back over at Graces in disbelief.

"We wagered on who would win the game," Graces shrugged, giving Hermione a smug smile. "Longbottom, here owes me some money now."

"You're making friendly bets with Malfoy?" Hermione asked, her voice not showing any signs of disapproval, but loaded with betrayal.

"I would hardly call a thousand galleons a friendly wager," Neville commented.

"A thousand galleons!" Hermione exclaimed. "Neville, you didn't."

"Yeah, I, uh, did." Neville could feel his heart racing in his chest. He wasn't used to this kind of deception. He only prayed Hermione would buy it. He fumbled for a moment, before digging in his pocket and pulling out his pouch of gold and holding it out to Graces.

He expected Graces to just play along, but the blonde just stood there staring at him. Looking almost unwilling to take the pouch.

"You can count it if you don't trust me, Malfoy. It's all there."

"How do you have this kind of gold, Longbottom?" Graces asked, still not moving to take the pouch. "Is this from your family vault?"

"Did you think I would make a wager without the gold to back it up?" Neville asked, feigning offense.

"You didn't answer my questions."

"I sold some plants," Neville explained evenly. "Well, I sold a whole greenhouse of plants, a greenhouse of roses that I altered to give off a better scent. I sold it to muggle perfume company. They were so impressed by my roses they paid me an advance to send them more. They are hoping to set up something more long term with me."

"Neville, when did you do all this?" Hermione asked, clearly shocked.

"I've grown the plants like that for years. It's really an interesting process, but—"

"No, when did you start a business?" Hermione stressed evenly.

"Well, I would hardly call it a business," Neville scoffed. "I just sold extra roses I had lying around in a greenhouse. I felt bad asking my gran to always be caring for them."

"Malfoy, are you going to take the money or what?" Neville asked, thrusting the pouch forward again.

Graces slowly came forward and took the pouch, her eyes not wavering from Neville's.

"Thanks."

Neville knew it was a ploy, but standing in front of Graces as she continued to glare at him like that still made him feel unsettled.

"Well, as fun as this has been, Longbottom, I must take my leave. I do have a party to attend to."

"Why did you two meet now?" Hermione continued, still looking at Graces. "And why when you were dressed so… so. Why did you two dress up to meet?"

"I didn't dress up to meet Longbottom!" Graces hissed. "My gods, why everyone thinks you are so brilliant is truly beyond me. We won. We finally beat you at Quidditch, so to celebrate the Slytherins are having a party." Graces then looked over at Neville. "And judging by the way Longbottom is dressed, I take it Gryffindor is as well. Though I don't know what it is you have to be celebrating."

"Drowning our sorrows," Neville shrugged.

"Oh, so I should expect to see Granger pulled out of the lake tomorrow?" Graces asked, perking up pleasantly.

"Okay," Neville sighed. "I think it is time for you to leave now, Malfoy."

Graces rolled her eyes, but didn't argue. She should have left a while ago anyways. Quickly, she hurried down to the courtyard to meet Pansy.

Neville watched her as she left. It was stupid, but he already missed her. Graces was easy to be with everyone else, was… not his to talk freely with. Without thinking Neville placed his hand over his wrist where he knew Graces' kiss lingered.

"Neville, what's going on?" Hermione asked, waking him from his thoughts.

"Nothing," Neville lied, his voice going about three pitches higher than normal.

Hermione didn't accept this answer. Neville had figured she wouldn't. She was too smart and observant not to notice the way his voice broke. Or the way you were watching her leave. Nice move, Longbottom…

"Neville," Hermione began slowly, "do you—"

Neville never thought he would be so happy to see Ron and Lavender snogging, but the moment the redhaired boy entered the room, practically falling over Lavender as he kissed her incessantly, he could have leaped for joy. Hermione seemed to forget all about questioning him as she pelted canaries at Ron before running out of the room in tears.

He did feel bad for Hermione. She was a good friend, and no one should have to see the person they were in love with be with someone else like that. Seeing them together in the halls is one thing, but having to watch them… well, there are certain things that belong in private.

"What were you and Hermione doing in here?" Ron asked suspiciously, as he took a few feathers from his mouth.

Neville could not believe that Ron had the gall to stand there with Lavender and ask that.

"Damn it, Ron. Grow up," Neville growled, storming out of the room before he said anymore.

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If this party had taken place any other year, Draco would have been thrilled. He was surrounded by classmates all patting him on the back, handing him a drink, and congratulating him on the win. He should have been on cloud nine. He should have been drinking like a fish and singing off key with Blaise. But he wasn't. He was tucked beside some tree trying to keep from being noticed so he could be alone with his thoughts. The drink he did have was not to celebrate with but to drown the image of his mother flinching from his head.

"Draco, darling!" Shit. "Come dance with me!"

"I, uh, would rather not," Draco mumbled, not wanting to dance or offend his sister's drunken friend.

"Please, Draco," Pansy slurred, taking his hand and spinning under it while giggling. Draco looked around for help, only to see his friends and sister just smiling knowingly at him.

"Oh, Draco, just dance with her already!" Graces called over the music, heading to the dance floor herself and dragging Millicent with her. "It won't kill you."

Draco, now unable to turn Pansy down without being rude, sighed and allowed himself to be dragged to the dance floor, only receiving a sympathetic look from Millicent as she too was being forced to join the festivities.

The blonde inwardly groaned as Pansy seemed to be hell bent on making this the most awkward situation imaginable for him. Not only was she drunkenly telling him how dreamy he was, but she had taken to hanging on his neck as she shuffled around on the dance floor, stepping on his toes every other step.

"See, isn't this better than being a wallflower?" Graces asked, taking another shot of some sort of green looking liquid and twirling about.

"Oh, yeah, so much fun," Draco exclaimed sarcastically, grabbing her good arm and pulling her over so she was between him and Pansy.

"Are you stealing a dance?" Graces laughed, as Draco began spinning her around making her feel dizzy.

"I'm your brother," Draco smiled smugly, "It's not considered stealing when I grab you to dance."

"Does that work both ways?" Graces grinned, losing her balance and falling onto him.

"Of course," Draco nodded, feigning a facade of seriousness. "You are always entitled to my time. Even if it is just a dance."

"I do so love being entitled," Graces mused.

"May I cut in?"

Draco looked up from smiling down on his sister, and immediately stiffened.

"Absolutely not," he glowered, pulling Graces into him closely so her face was cradled against his neck.

"Come on, Malfoy. It's one dance."

"Get away from my sister, Nott," Draco growled, jerking Graces behind him. "You're not touching a single hair on her head. I'll fucking kill you before I let you dance with her."

Nott looked around at the other Slytherins now watching the exchange. Draco realized that he had lost his composure, that he was baring his teeth and hiding his sister behind him like a dragon defending an egg, but he couldn't back down now, not with everyone watching.

"Shall we have a little chat, Draco?" Nott requested cordially, gesturing away from the clearing.

"I don't see us having anything to chat about."

"Don't be stupid, Malfoy," Nott whispered. "Do you love your sister? Your mother? Then come talk to me."

Draco stood there a few moments turning over Nott's request in his head. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to have to stand there while Nott moved his silver tongue at him. He wanted to humiliate him further by refusing him an audience, by defying his wishes.

Because that worked out so well for you last time.

"Graces," Draco sighed turning around and facing his sister, who was currently glaring a hole in Nott's forehead. "I have to go talk to Nott," Draco groaned, rolling his eyes, as though this was just a mere inconvenience and not a threat.

"Draco," Graces whined. "We were dancing."

"I'll dance with you," Graham called over, moving away from a crowd of 7th years, and bowing cordially to Graces with a playful grin.

Draco couldn't help but enjoy the look on Nott's face as Graham came forth, and before he or Theodore could see Graces' response he gestured for Nott to follow him away.

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Graces stood there awkwardly in front of Graham. Graham was not the kind of guy you danced with. He was a rough around the edges kind of guy. He was burly and always looking as though he were ready to punch someone, and now he was standing in front of her as though he wanted to try and be the kind of guy a girl dances with at a party.

"Shall we?" he asked gesturing around as people once again started to enjoy the party. Graces wondered if he had to put a considerable amount of effort in making his face seem soft at the moment.

"I didn't know you danced."

"I'm not opposed to trying new things."

Graces folded her arms around her awkwardly, and bit her lip.

"Would you like a drink instead?" Graham offered, holding his arm out.

Graces, not being sure what else to do, nodded and allowed Graham to lead her over to the table. Though she still did not take his arm. It was odd having his hand on the small of her back and even odder to see him smiling comfortingly down at her. Usually her interactions with him were confined to the Quidditch pitch, which meant he was yelling and cursing at her.

"Do you like elf-wine? I brought a bottle here. If I had known how much Zabini was bringing I would have just left it in my dorm, save it for a rainy day kind of thing." Graham looked over at Graces hesitantly. "Anyways, would you like a glass?"

"Sure," Graces nodded quietly and watched as Graham fumbled with the cork nervously, before pouring it into a wine glass. "Are you going to have a drink?"

"No, I'm not much of a wine drinker."

"Not much of a wine drinker, and yet you have a bottle of wine," Graces murmured, taking a small sip.

"A man should always have a fine bottle of wine at hand," Graham recited, pouring himself a glass of fire whiskey. They each stood there for a few moments, Graces taking small sips of her wine and Graham moving the amber liquid around in his glass letting the ice clink. "So… you and Nott. I take it that's over? Completely."

Graces nodded and looked away shyly, having an idea of where Graham was getting at.

"Do you mind me asking why you broke it off with him?"

"I didn't love him."

"I think there's more to it than that," Graham surmised, waiting for more of an answer.

Graces, however, wasn't willing to give more of an answer. Nott's infidelity was her humiliation to bear alone, and she was not about to share it. Not to mention she didn't want word of it ever reaching Draco.

"You could tell me," Graham prodded. "I've never been one to gossip."

"I don't know why you are so certain it was more."

"Because that Ravenclaw girl that Nott slept with was the same one I was hoping to court myself."

"Oh, Graham," Graces breathed, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. I don't particularly want to be dating a girl that sleeps with another girl's long standing boyfriend," Graham shrugged before looking down at Graces meaningfully. "I won't tell your secret, Malfoy, but you shouldn't be embarrassed. Nott was the one who lost out."

Graces just nodded her head and took a long standing sip of the wine. It was delicious, sweet and crisp with hints of raspberry and something more earthy. She stood there pondering over what must be giving the wine the earthy tone, rather than what Graham was getting at. Focusing on delicious wine and the cold breeze around her seemed like a better option.

"We never have talked much have we?" Graham noted, leaning against the table.

"You yell more often than talk," Graces said absently.

"I guess I do," Graham chuckled. "Though it would be nice if you stopped giving me reasons to yell at you during practice and the games."

"And take away all your fun? Never."

The two teammates had a bit of a laugh over the truth in Graces words for a moment before Graham turned and started pouring Graces another glass.

"I asked your brother after the game today if I could formally court you," Graham said, handing Graces the glass of wine. Graces eyes widened and she just held the wine glass, too afraid to take a sip out of fear her hands would tremble.

"What did he say?"

"Do you think I would be standing here now if he objected?" Graces looked down into her glass, and wished that Draco had done her the favor of saying no.

"I-I didn't realize you had feelings for me," Graces said quietly.

"I don't," Graham laughed. "Gods, Malfoy, I'm not ridiculous. This is the first real conversation I've ever had with you. I just enjoy having you on the team, and I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy kissing you." Graham fell silent for a moment, and gathered himself, before staring down into Graces' eyes seriously. "I would like to get to know you. I feel that if we knew one another we may find that we are a good match. What do you say?"

Graces bit her lip and absently fiddled with the necklace hanging around her neck. The necklace that Neville gave her.

"I-I can't. I'm so sorry, Graham. I just can't."

"Another bloke?"

Graces blushed, but grudgingly nodded.

"Ah… I take it Draco doesn't know?"

"He doesn't need to. I'm—I'm not dating or anything. It's just, well, a bit of a crush I suppose. Nothing serious."

"Serious enough to turn down a proper suitor though," Graham pointed out, smiling into his drink.

"I'm young. I have time to make such mistakes," Graces argued.

Graham grinned and took the bottle of wine off the table handing it over to Graces.

"Go be young then."

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"Is your brother ever coming back?" Pansy moaned, taking another swig from the bottle of wine.

"No, Pansy. He is never coming back. Both you and I are never going to see him again, because he has run off with Nott. They're probably starting a life together in the muggle world, and are going to adopt little tiny muggle children and werewolves." Graces giggled at her own humor, not caring when Pansy pushed her off the stomp she was sitting in.

"You're such a prat."

"I'm your best friend," Graces corrected in a tone of mock offense. "Though I don't know why I am when you are pushing me like this. If I hadn't just lost my brother I would never speak to you again."

"Yes you would," Pansy smirked. "Who would do your makeup or wash your hair now that your arm is useless? And while we are on the subject, who would help you into your clothes or—"

"Fine! Fine!" Graces shrieked. "You're a good friend."

"Sooo, Graham kissed you today… and then you two went and talked in the corner for a while."

"Oh, look Thomas is coming over!" Graces exclaimed.

"What are you talking about? He's not coming ov—"

"Thomas, darling, be a doll and help me up," Graces called.

Thomas looked over to where Graces and Pansy were giggling, and walked over shaking his head at the two girls.

"Y-you're d-d-drunk," Thomas pointed out, hoisting Graces up.

"I am," Graces acknowledged. "The question is why isn't Thomas drunk?"

"S-s-slur-ring a-nd s-s-stu-t-tering? N-not a g-g-ood c-combin-ati-tion."

"Hi Thomas." All three Slytherins looked over to see a third year Slytherin girl with long jet black hair, and emerald eyes batting her eyelashes over at Thomas as she walked by, her hips swinging to and fro, clearly meant to capture Thomas' attention.

Higgs raised both eyebrows in surprise at the flirtation and his eyes followed her until she was too far away to watch any longer without looking obvious. When Thomas turned back to the conversation he had a very pleasantly surprised look about him.

"Hi Thomas!" Graces and Pansy echoed, giggling wildly.

Thomas rolled his eyes and tried to pretend it was not a big deal.

"Well, she certainly has those child bearing hips you Higgs men enjoy so much," Pansy joked, looking at the girl with piqued interest. "Wendelin Arisanti, right? Not bad, Thomas. Small family, all dark, a few squibs here and there, but very respectable. What did Blaise call the Arisanti girls? Dark haired beauties."

"Aren't you going to go talk to her?" Graces prodded, taking another sip of her drink and frowning as the young boy gave her a pointed look. "Oh, Thomas, we all know about your speech impediment."

"Kn-know-wing a-and h-hear-ring are t-t-two d-diff-fferent th-th-things."

"Thomas, don't be ridiculous," Graces scolded. "You're powerful. Go play on that. Trust me, once she see's a bit of your wandless magic she won't care. Honestly, she doesn't seem to care now."

"Sh-she's n-never h-heard m-me s-s-speak."

"Go over there before I hex you," Graces continued, pushing her friend away. "I'm serious, go."

Thomas slowly began walking over, sending a backward glance to Graces as he did so. By the time he reached Wendelin though he had pulled himself together: standing at his full height with an air of confidence any pureblooded boy should have when addressing someone. Graces and Pansy both held their breath as Higgs bowed his head slightly in hello and graciously gestured over to the drinks silently offering to get her one.

"I suppose it wasn't Thomas that sent you that blouse," Pansy breathed, watching Thomas pour Wendelin a chocolate cauldron martini.

"I told you," Graces sang, standing on her toes to get a better view over the people dancing.

Everything seemed to be going well. Thomas had yet to speak, he seemed to be answering Wendelin's questions with bodily gestures. A nod here, shrug there, shake of the head, a gesture with his drink for her to answer the same question, but Graces knew it wouldn't be long. For a moment she wondered if this was a mistake. If Thomas' allure to the girl was mostly from the mystery associated with a handsome man that stayed silent.

She had her answer a few moments later. That question finally came up. It appeared Wendelin had finally asked Thomas something that he needed to speak to answer. Graces heart broke for Thomas as he tried to answer without stuttering. His silence had saved him so much embarrassment over the years. He had been able to keep his pride by putting away his voice. Now as he stuttered through, which sadly seemed to be a long explanation, Wendelin's impression of him was obviously changing, and Thomas was too observant to not notice the smile slipping from Wendelin's face and the awkwardness that had touched the way she stood with him.

Come on, Thomas. Do something. Graces inwardly pleaded, as Thomas shuffled from foot to foot and looked down at his shoes. Wendelin was looking around the clearing, and Graces could tell that she was now looking for an escape.

It was just as Wendelin opened her mouth to excuse herself, that Thomas finally got it together and leaned over on a tree and set his bottle of butterbeer down mid-air. The green-eyed girl's eyes widened considerably at the display of wandless and nonverbal magic before she turned to Thomas and began asking him question after question about his studies, clearly not bothered anymore that it took him some time to stutter through the answers.

Graces and Pansy both let out sighs of relief.

"We should stop staring," Graces recommended, though she continued on in watching Thomas' exchange with the girl.

"No way," Pansy emphasized. "I am not missing this."

"Graces."

"Draco!" Graces shrieked excitedly. "My Gods, what took you so long? You've missed most of the party. Everyone here is utterly pissed, minus Higgs," Graces added rolling her eyes, "And you're just getting back. What were you—"

Graces stopped talking when Pansy put a halting hand on her arm. At first she didn't understand what she was doing, and was about to bat her hand away, but Pansy tilted her eyes over to Draco again as though beseeching her to actually look at her brother, and Graces understood right away.

It was obvious something was wrong. Draco had a look to him that just signified bad news. If he were wearing an auror uniform, Graces would have immediately thought someone had died, and he had been sent to break her the news. His eyes had a sunken look about them, and his skin looked sheet white.

"Pansy, will you excuse us?" Graces whispered, not removing her eyes from her brother. Pansy nodded and quietly walked away giving Graces' hand a reassuring squeeze and bidding Draco good night before she departed.

"I have to go," Draco said quietly, his voice hoarse. "I need to work on my mission."

"Draco," Graces began, trying desperately hard to not sound frightened. "What's going on? Did he hurt you?"

"Graces, just enjoy the party. I have to go," Draco repeated, turning away to leave.

Graces wasn't having any of it though. She was not just going to let her brother scurry off with no explanation, not when he looked like a muggle who had seen a ghost.

"No," she snarled. "What's going on?"

"Graces, please," Draco begged. "Just stay here."

"No! What is going on? Why do you look frightened? Don't we still have the upper hand with Nott? Aren't we better able to defend ourselves. He can't touch us. You made sure of that, so why do you look—"

"Graces," Draco cautioned, taking his sister by her shoulders. "We do not have the upper hand anymore."

"Wh-what?"

Draco sighed and closed his eyes. Clearly not wanting to reveal the information he was about to tell her.

"He hurt mum."

Graces didn't understand those words. She had no idea what Draco just said. It must have been a spell, because her heart was now pounding in her chest and she could feel the blood in her veins pulsing.

"He hurt mum," Draco choked again slowly. "I was so stupid, Graces. I never thought... I was so concerned with protecting myself and you here, I forgot about mum. I thought she was safe and…" Draco trailed off, and took a few deep breathes to pull himself together.

"No. No no no, that couldn't happen," Graces denied shaking her head. "Our mother has prestige in that circle. He wouldn't dare touch our mother. Not after our father's service, not when her sister is his right hand. Nott lied to you, Draco. Our mother is safe. No one would dare—"

"The Dark Lord doesn't care. So long as his task isn't finished he doesn't care what Nott does to motivate me."

"Is-is she okay?" Graces choked, unable to hold back her tears.

"She's fine," Draco reassured. "You saw her today. This was done before today."

Graces nodded, and just continued to scrunch up her face trying not to cry. She didn't dare ask what Nott had done. It was cowardly, but she didn't want to know. She didn't want to have an image of her mother's torture illustrated in her head. This was not supposed to happen. Her mother was a respectable grown witch. She should not have been hurt by a teenage boy like this. There should have been ramifications to Nott's actions. If her father were here—

Your father isn't here.

"I don't want you to think about this," Draco whispered, pulling Graces in and hugging her, not caring about her arm. "Continue on with the party, have a good time, but don't think for one second that we have the upper hand with Nott."

"I don't want to stay," Graces whimpered. "I want to go with you."

"I need to work on my mission, Graces," Draco said quietly. "Nott has been sending a log of my idle time to the Dark Lord. Whenever I'm not working on it he is informing on me. This needs my full attention. I can't even play Quidditch anymore. Graces, you have to remain busy. There has to be no doubt of your innocence. You need to always have an alibi. That way in case I fail you can pretend you knew nothing, that you had no way of knowing anything."

"Oh, so I'm just supposed to look like some silly girl that was too busy playing Quidditch and going to parties to notice that her brother was up to something," Graces cried, her body shaking from emotion.

"Yes."

The pair of them just stood there for a few moments, both taking in the weight of what was happening around them.

"Go have a few more drinks," Draco suggested tiredly. "Try to put your mind at ease, and go back to the castle when you are too far gone to think about everything."

Graces nodded mechanically and wiped away what was left of her tears as she watched her brother walk away from the clearing.

"Are you okay?" Pansy asked, putting a comforting arm over Graces who just shook her head.

"I need a drink."

"I'll go get you one," Pansy nodded.

Graces moved to stand against a tree on the edge of the surrounding. Everyone was seemingly having a good time. The music was loud, drinks were plenty, and the air was filled with chatter, and yet everything felt dull, dream-like even. Even the night stars seemed to have lost their luster.

"Here."

Graces turned and sluggishly took the drink. It was stiff. She imagined that Pansy put everything hard in this goblet and just mixed it. Good, I would rather be dreaming than standing here feeling like I was. With that thought the blonde tipped her head back and downed the whole goblet.

"Am I going to have to carry you to the castle?" Pansy asked, trying to make a joke out of the situation and failing miserable.

"No," Graces whispered hollowly. "I'm going to go back to the castle now."

"I'll come with you."

"No, I-I just want to be alone," Graces elaborated, already walking. "I'll see you later."

"Graces."

"I want to be alone, Pansy," Graces snapped, losing her temper and hurrying along. "I will see you later."

Graces wept all along the trail in the forest. She allowed each tear to fall freely to the cold earth she was walking on. She didn't care anymore to be strong. Her mother was hurt. Draco was right in the palm of Nott's hand. And she was expected to just behave like nothing was happening. How was she supposed to do that?

I can't. I can't do that. I can't.

Maybe it was the overwhelming feeling of emotion from all that she had learned in the past few hours, or maybe it was because she had a little too much, but either way she ended up against a tree being sick.

I am never going to drink again. Graces vowed silently, taking her handkerchief and wiping her lips. It was when she started walking again that she began to feel… funny.

A funny chill had crept up her spine, leaving her with this odd tingling sensation, and she felt as though her breathing was beginning to slow. She tried to shake it off and began moving faster, only to find herself stumbling over herself.

I've been drugged, Graces thought, panicked. Vainly she tried to move forward, tried to ignore her heart rate slowing and her breathing becoming more and more shallow. Her body was falling asleep well before her mind was. It was as she fell against the ground and began crawling that she heard it. Footsteps. Someone was coming. She could hear them stomping through the snow.

She continued to try to stand, waiting for adrenaline to course through her and help her up, but it didn't come. Instead she fell hard to the ground as her legs completely gave out. She looked down at her hands, as her vision began to blur: raw and bloodied. Please, no. She begged to herself, as her eyelids began to close against her will and her cheek found the cold ground. No. No. No.

She tried to scream as she felt someone hoist her up off the ground. In her mind she was screaming. She could feel the open air against her tongue and tried to make noise without knowing if she was succeeding or not. She was beyond drowsy. She was awake in her head, as her body slept, and the consciousness that she had was slipping away. She tried harder to make noise. With all the will that was left in her she tried harder to scream or to at least open her eyes. She must have made some sort of noise, because in her last few moments of consciousness she felt a hand cover her mouth to stifle any sounds she was making.

It wasn't that she wanted to give up. It was that her choice had been ripped away from her. Her body was under the spell of whatever potion was in that drink. Everything started to slip away. Scared and in the dark she focused on her steady heart beat, slowly thumping in her chest.

Maybe this is best, Graces thought, darkness now intruding in her head. I don't want to be awake for this.

I told you things were going to go down this chapter! Don't forget to review/follow/favorite! If you all are hanging on the edge of your seat I want to know about it!