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 iamacola, Bharm, noone297, Manoirmalfoys, CHarmony49, LooseFur, Blue Luver5000, paratrooper321fa, Lizzy B and spannieren for the reviews!

Chapter 32

Dawn. Dawn had come. Light graced the land again. Birds could be heard outside and life continued. Time had passed without her. Time had ticked away while she had been unconscious. It had only felt like a second, not even a full moment, just a second. Graces would have believed she had only fallen into the darkness of her mind a second ago if it had not been for the birds chirping.

Oh how they sang, excitedly announcing the new day that was bringing new beginnings. They sang of light and sun, of warmth and comfort, of food and love. They sang and sang and sang not caring for the horror that was surrounding them. Like her they had no idea of what happened. But unlike her they didn't have the brain to comprehend. Graces did.

She understood without knowing. And she hated the birds and their song in that moment, hated how they could sing and sing, hated how they were able to be lively and fly away, despised them for reminding her that time would go on. She would have to go on. She needed to open her eyes and face the realities around her, face what had happened to her.

It was too much. She couldn't, not this. She couldn't face this. She laid there longer, too afraid to open her eyes and see. She tried to will herself to go back to sleep so she could have a few more minutes of not having to know. But instead she became more awake. She came to realizations harder to swallow than just that of a new day. Nothing was tight around her chest or legs. She had been undressed. She was lying on something soft, a makeshift bed of hay judging by the way it felt and the smell around her.

Something had been thrown over her body. A blanket? Yes, something like that. Slowly she inched her hand over to her bare legs beginning to drag it up to where her underwear still remained. Her heart began to race as she came nearer. Her damn heart that had slowed the other night was now finally racing and pumping adrenaline into her hours too late. Her breathing quickened despite how she tried to keep it calm, and when she finally reached the thin cloth she choked on a sob unable to bring herself to move the bit of clothing over in order to be able to know for sure what had happened.

She knew she needed to be quiet. That there was a good chance she was still not alone, but she couldn't stop. She couldn't stop herself from sputtering sob after sob. She tightened her jaw and violently bit her lips together, but she couldn't keep herself silent. She couldn't breath any longer. She was crying too hard and trying too violently to not cry that she needed more air than her nostrils could intake. She needed to open her mouth to get air, but she couldn't do it. Because she knew the moment she allowed her lips to part she would scream. She would wail over those damn birds' songs and howl her sorrow and anger into the morning air.

Footsteps. Footsteps were rushing towards her and Graces, unable to keep it in any longer, opened her mouth and cried. He was here. He was here, and he was touching her again. He hoisted her up and was saying something, making her screams louder. She could scream now. He was aware she was awake, she could scream as loud as she wanted. So she did. She screamed and cried out into the morning like a wounded animal being tortured. She screamed as though she could make the sick sensation and hollowness in her chest erupt from her body, just like the noise filling the air.

Desperately, she began flailing her arms, trying her best to hit her assailant without actually opening her eyes to see. She couldn't bring herself to do that yet. She didn't want to know who had violated her, who had robbed her of what was hers, who had taken her body hostage. She swung her arms again and again, not caring if she was hitting him or not, just screaming to not be touched.

"I'm not touching you! I'm not touching you! Graces, please! You're hurting yourself, stop!"

Neville?

Graces opened her eyes to see Neville standing up in front of her. Clutching his nose as blood pooled between his fingers, down his arms, spilling over the kiss mark still on his wrist. When he realized she was no longer screaming, that her eyes were now open, he pulled his hands away, allowing his wounds from her to show freely.

"I think it's time you start telling me what exactly is going on," he said slowly, meeting her silver eyes evenly.

Graces didn't know what to say or even what to feel. It was Neville. Neville was the one standing in front of her. Neville was the one she had been hitting. His blood was the one trickling down on the floor. It was Neville. Did he find her? Did he happen to find her after… after…

Graces turned over and began being sick over the side of the hay. Neville immediately came over to her pulling her hair back, and rubbing her bare back, despite her begging him to leave her alone.

"It's okay, Graces" Neville comforted, ignoring her request to be left alone. "I have you. Everything is okay. It's all okay."

"EVERYTHING IS NOT OKAY!" Graces screamed, her body heaving even though there was nothing left in her. "NOTHING WILL EVER BE OKAY AGAIN! HOW COULD YOU EVEN SAY THAT TO ME?"

"Graces." Graces didn't care what Neville had to say. She honestly never wanted to see him again. She felt sullied. She pushed him away from her, trying to look away as she continued to cry, demanding he leave her. "Graces, you're okay. You are. You're okay."

"I'm ruined," Graces moaned. "Defiled, tarnished, desecrated. Don't tell me I'm okay. Just leave me. Leave me where ever you found me and go."

Graces continued to just allow herself to break down. Neville was pulling her towards him again, but she just kept tearing away. It was just all too awful. She would have preferred her assailant there over Neville.

"You are not ruined, Graces. Nothing happened to you. I found you in the woods, just after you had passed out. Nothing happened to you. I've had you the whole night."

"No, someone took me," Graces muttered shaking her head. "They put their hand over my mouth to stop me from screaming. I remember. I remember, because I was trying so hard to stay awake. To see them. To—"

"That was me," Neville stressed, soothing Graces' hair down and holding the back of her head. "I heard stumbling in the woods, so I went out and started to look. Graces, I found you. I found you stumbling in the woods. By the time I reached you, you had fallen to the ground. I put my hand over your mouth when I heard someone else coming. I had to stop you from making noise so they wouldn't hear you."

"It-it was you?" Neville nodded slowly. "Then-then why am I undressed?"

"You were all cut up," Neville answered. "You had cuts all over your arms and legs, and thorns embedded in your skin. Not to mention your clothes were damp."

Graces looked down at her arms, they were covered in scrapes and scratches. And now that she thought of it her arm that had been injured during quidditch was burning from the inside. Her left leg felt sore, but she felt nothing in her right. She moved the old dingy quilt over and looked down at her legs. Both were scabbing over, and yet she didn't feel the right.

"I can't move my right leg," she whispered.

"What?" Neville was now looking over her leg, moving her left and tickling both. Her right had no reaction though.

Graces stared at her legs, replaying again and again a single memory in her head.

"Add the powder. You don't have enough hellebore syrup for the potion; I need to get my vial out of my bag."

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

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

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

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

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

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

sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

"Come on, I'm taking you to Pomfrey," Neville declared, moving to lift her up and carry her.

"No, it will pass," Graces said hollowly, still looking down at her leg. "It will pass," she whispered.

"You don't know that, Graces."

"I do. I know that. It will pass. The Draught of Peace can place a person in a deep sleep; a possibly irreversible sleep. Hellebore syrup is used in potions to treat paralysis, not using enough in this potion can cause the taker to become paralysed for a long period or permanently. The syrup is needed to cancel out some of the side effects of so much moonpowder. This will pass."

Neville stared at Graces as she continued to mutter to herself about how this would all pass, and prattle on about potions as though in a trance. He wondered if she even realized she was talking out loud.

"He's never going to leave me alone," Graces breathed. "Never."

"Graces, you need to talk to me," Neville pleaded, wiping away some of the tears on her cheek. "You need to talk to me. Tell me what is going on. Who did this?"

"I can't."

"You can," Neville stressed. "Just tell me." Graces just shook her head and began rocking back and forth muttering again and again how she couldn't. Neville couldn't make sense out of half the things she was saying. One moment she was whispering about her brother, then the next she was babbling about her mother. The only thing that he understood, that made sense was her ending whimpers of 'I want my Daddy' repeated over and over again.

Neville, not having an idea on how to make such things better, pulled the blanket open and moved inside with Graces. He took her in his arms and slowly lay down to allow her to cry in the comfort of an embrace. He imagined they looked like a sight, Graces scratched, bruised, almost completely naked and sobbing into his bloodied shirt while he stared up at the barn roof with bloodshot eyes trying not to cry himself.

Neville closed his eyes and held the girl closer, the girl whom he loved. He had picked her up last night off the ground and spent hours trying to wake her up. She meant more to him than anything in this world and he had found her limp and unmoving on the ground. Now she was cradled against him like a child, crying for her father. Neville had thought he knew anger. He had been angry so many times before. He had felt that white iron that pierced your insides and made your blood boil with loathing before, but nothing compared to the feeling he had had when he found Graces. There was only one reason he knew to drug a pretty girl like this, and the reason alone made him see red.

He loved her, and he was unable to protect her from things too terrible to even say out loud. He had thought Draco would keep her safe. He didn't know what was going on, so he had relied on the people around her being able to protect her. It looked as though even the people around her were unable to prevent harm from coming to her.

"Graces, you need to tell me what's going on. Who did this?" he pleaded. "I can help you."

"No one can help me," Graces sniveled. "No one."

"I can help you," Neville swore, shaking Graces slightly to get her attention. "I can help you, Graces. I can. Just tell me who. Tell me what's going on."

"I should just give in," Graces groaned, not listening to Neville's pleas. "It wouldn't be nearly as bad then. Maybe he won't want me after. At least it would be my choice. Anything is better than this."

Neville flanked for a moment as he tried to piece together what Graces was saying.

"You can't mean that," he whispered. "Graces, you can't mean that," he said more forcefully, sitting up and staring down at her.

"You don't understand," Graces weeped. "You could never understand. I have no choice."

"You do have a choice!" Neville snapped. "Tell me what is going on so I can help you."

"You can't. You can't. I should just get it over with and be done."

Neville never imagined he would hear something like this come from Graces' mouth. What she was suggesting was the most sickening thing he had ever heard. It was unbearable for him to even comprehend.

"I won't let you," he swore evenly.

"It's not your choice," Graces hissed, wiping away some of her tears. "I am not your girlfriend, Longbottom. I am not yours, and you have no say in this."

"Don't. Don't you dare talk to me like that. I have never objectified you like that. I am not some child who doesn't want to share a toy. If you wanted to sleep with someone else, I wouldn't say a thing, but you don't. You don't want to do this, and I am not going to let you slowly kill your soul."

"You Gryffindors love to be the hero," Graces scoffed, taking a shaking breath "You love to come riding in and save the damsels in distress. Well, I have news for you, Longbottom. I am no damsel, I am damned. And you can't save the damned."

Neville stared at Graces for a moment before leaning down so that his nose was almost touching hers and placed his hand on her face.

"Then what's salvation for?" He challenged, never wavering his eyes from hers'. "I can help you, Graces. I can. I just need you to talk to me."

Graces looked down for a moment and seemed to be turning over that possibility in her head. He could see that she was still unsure, that she didn't fully believe he could help her, but she wasn't writing it off.

"If you don't talk, I can't help you," Neville cautioned. "I want to help you, Graces. I truly believe if you told me what was going on I could."

"You would just want to go to Dumbledore, or someone," Graces frowned, already reverting back.

"If that isn't an option, I won't. Is it not an option?' Graces sniffed and shook her head solemnly. "Okay, then. Why is it not an option?"

"It just isn't," Graces whispered.

"Graces, you need to talk to me," Neville growled, starting to lose his patience. "If you don't I'm just going to go and tell someone. I'm not going to sit back and do nothing. So you can either tell me and I will find a solution that works with you, or I'll go to Dumbledore."

"You can't!" Graces exclaimed. "You can't betray me, you—"

"Betray you? How is telling one of the most powerful wizards in the wizarding world that you were, that you were-—oh, gods—that you were almost raped, and begging him to investigate it betraying you?" Neville asserted, looking at Graces as though she had lost her mind. "I'm not the smartest of blokes, Graces. I'll concede to that, but telling Dumbledore seems like the smart decision here, or telling any adult for that matter."

"If you tell anyone, I'll hate you," Graces swore, gritting her teeth at him. "I'll curse your name for the rest of my life. I will never forgive you."

"I could live with that," Neville stated calmly. It hurt. It hurt to hear Graces say that, and it hurt to think of loving her while she hated him, but given the options Neville would rather she hate him than allow her to become someone's plaything. He would rather she be safe and valued than that. He was done not being in the loop about what was going on with Graces. He was done relying on Draco to be the one to take care of her. He loved her. She wasn't just some girl he fancied or someone he wanted to know better. He loved her. He loved her and he was not going to be the kind of man that loved a woman and put little effort into protecting her.

"Why are you doing this?" Graces whispered, looking at Neville as though he were the one torturing her.

Because I love you. "Because I care about you."

"If you care, if you really care about me, Longbottom, you won't say a word."

"Don't you want to know who did this to you?" Neville exclaimed gesturing to her leg.

"I know who did this to me," Graces said evenly, glaring up at Neville. "And because I know who did this to me, I am aware going to anyone will only hurt me and my family more."

"Then you better tell me," Neville demanded. "Because if you don't tell me I am going to tell, Graces. I can't just not know. So you have two options here. Tell me and I will protect you within the bounds you allow me, or don't tell me and I am going straight to Dumbledore."

"Are you threatening me?" Graces growled, something sinister starting to brew behind the gray clouds in her eyes.

"I am promising you."

"I could kill you," Graces threatened, shaking like a leaf. "I could kill you and make it so you are never found. Are you sure you want to continue putting me in a corner, Longbottom?"

There was a pregnant silence following Graces' words. Graces glared at Neville, a turmoil of hate raging in each breath, and Neville stared back at her noticing how much she resembled her father. A small shiver went down his back as he remembered her father's wand pointed at him as he discussed how his grandmother was used to losing family members. Slowly, he reached into his pocket and took out her wand. Placing it firmly in her hand.

"Then do it," he challenged. "Because those are your options."

Neville moved his hands away from the blonde's and placed them apart opening his chest to whatever Graces chose to do. He watched as her hand slumped and shook. He knew that she could very well do it, that in many ways she probably thought she needed to, but he also knew that she didn't want to.

"It's my family's safety," Graces hiccupped. "You have no idea what an investigation would do. It would kill us all."

"Then kill me or tell me," Neville voiced, glad that he sounded strong.

"You don't want to know, Longbottom," Graces whispered, closing her eyes a few tears fell. "If you knew you would have to tell, and when you tell—" Graces gritted her teeth and shook her head, obviously having difficulty discussing this. "When you tell, my family will be in the same position."

"I will not tell," Neville swore. "What do I have to do to convince you that you can trust me? Do you want an unbreakable vow?"

"No," Graces croaked. "If you made that you would die."

"And yet, here you are with a wand pointed at my heart."

"Please, just drop this," Graces heaved. "Please."

"Graces," Neville said gently, reaching over and taking her free hand. "I want to help you. I want to be there for you. I want to protect you, but I can't do any of that if I am in the dark. I need to know what is going on. I swear I won't tell anyone anything. You can trust me. Graces, open your eyes and look at me. You can trust me."

"Your loyalties are to the light, to Potter, to—"

"My loyalties are to those I—" Neville stopped himself and took a deep breath. "My loyalties are not to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I would never be a Death Eater, but I also would never allow anyone to harm an innocent girl."

"I'm not innocent," Graces pointed out, shaking her head.

"This war is not your fault, Graces. Your situation is not your fault. If it's anyone's fault it's your father's. And I won't let you be punished for his mistakes."

"And what of Draco and my mum?"

"I am not going to take away the only people that you have. Graces, please trust me."

Neville didn't realize how nervous he had been, until Graces lowered her wand.

"Ar-are you going to tell me?"

"I don't really have a choice do I?" Graces pointed out, still crying. "I can't kill you, and I can't let you go to Dumbledore or anyone, so I have to trust you. I don't have another option."

"Well, technically, you could kill me," Neville deadpanned.

Graces looked up at him for a moment, and it was in that moment that Neville realized it had all be a ruse. She was never going to kill him. She had just wanted to scare him.

"You were never going to kill me," Neville frowned. "Well, that's a change."

"You're my friend," Graces shrugged. "Killing you would be like killing Pansy."

Neville just nodded, and tried his best not to smile. Graces had once said she would kill him with no hesitation if he were a threat to her brother, and now she not only hesitated but couldn't. She had also mentioned that he wasn't a friend to her like Pansy, but she had just placed him and Pansy in the same category. It was a celebratory moment, but it was just a bad time for the moment.

"You can't unknow something, Longbottom," Graces warned, blinking back more determined tears. "Once you know, you know. Trust me, being in the dark is better than being in the light sometimes."

"You were drugged, Graces. You were drugged with what I can only presume to be a dangerous potion, judging by your leg. You were drugged with a dangerous poison so someone could force himself on you. Now, I'm not too daft to realize who it must have been. I am sure that it was Nott. And I am sure it was him because he is the only person I have seen you cower before. I didn't push after the potion incident because you were determined to keep it from me. You said that you would tell Draco and that the situation would be taken care of, and instead it appears to have escalated." Neville leaned back and stared up to the heavens. "I don't understand anything, Graces. Do you know how difficult it is for me to be in the dark like this? All night I watched you and wondered if anything else like this has happened to you before. Do you have any idea how many scenarios have run through my head? Was the bruise on your back the other week really from a bludger during practice or was someone hurting you and you just were keeping it from me? I can't be in the dark anymore. I have to know. Why are you so scared of Nott?"

"It's a long story," Graces said, her voice thick with emotion. "He basically has the upper hand on our family. We have to bend to his will."

"Why?" Neville pressed.

"It's complicated."

"I have time."

"I have to tell you don't I?" Graces choked, pulling her legs up and shielding herself. Neville just nodded sadly and waited. He had won. He was finally going to know what was going on, but it came at a price. Graces didn't want him to have this information. She didn't trust him with it, he had bullied her into giving it.

Neville wished it could have been different. He wished that they had the time to wait, but they didn't. He needed to protect her now, and he couldn't wait however long it would take to gain her trust completely. He hated that he had won. He hated watching her blankly stare at a point in the wall, defeated. He hated knowing that he was the one causing her pain.

You're going to cause her less pain in the future. You have to do what's best, and that isn't always easy.

"My father made a lot of enemies," Graces muttered hollowly, "Before it never mattered. No one would ever dare go against Lucius Malfoy, the Dark Lord's right hand man. My father ensured that his name would act as a shield to his family. The sound of his name alone

would place such fear into the hearts of his enemies that they wouldn't dare touch a hair on any of our heads. And like a child, I believed that my God could never fall. Now, he's gone and the Dark Lord no longer favors him. And I'm scared, because I know that if given the chance his enemies will hurt him the only way they can. Take away a man's children and you have truly killed him. Draco, being the heir, took up this burden."

"My brother is now the head of our family. But as you can imagine Draco doesn't wield the same kind of fear my father did. Especially after the Dark Lord punished him in front of his followers."

"It was horrible," Graces whispered, a single tear rolling down her cheek, "hearing Draco screaming like that, watching him twist and squirm on the floor like a worm and cry after like a child." Graces closed her eyes, as though she was closing them to what happened. "I was next," Graces choked. "I was next. He called me to come forward, and-and I was so scared—I couldn't move. I-I had never known pain a day in my life. I just stood there clutching my mother's hand crying and shaking my head."

"Then someone grabbed my arm and started pulling me forward. Oh, Gods, I was a coward. I hadn't even been hurt and I was screaming. Then Draco pulled himself as much as he could off the ground and said he would take the punishment. He said he was the patriarch and that if anyone should be punished for our father's failures it was him."

"I tried to take it back," Graces groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "I did. I tried to take it back. If I had known—If I had known Draco would volunteer to be tortured in my place I would have tried harder to not scream. I was so stupid. I was such a stupid, silly girl."

"Graces, that is not your fault. You reacted exactly like anyone else would. You—"

"That's not true and you know it," Graces hissed. "You took it. My father cruciated you and you didn't beg for mercy. You demanded it over Harry handing over the prophecy. You can't make me feel better for allowing my brother to be tortured in my place. You can't. You're the last one who could make me feel better for it."

Neville wanted to argue, but he stopped himself. She was right. There was nothing he could say that would make her feel better about that day. She had to watch her brother be tortured for her. Graces was not a Gryffindor, but she was also not a coward. So having a momentary lapse of cowardice forever burned into her memory by her brother's screams must be hard. Begrudgingly he nodded and waited for her to continue.

"We were living in constant fear after that. After the Dark Lord punished Draco it was pretty obvious that he didn't care for what happened to us. Nott took the mark and it earned him the same place in the Dark Lord's circle as his father. He had protection under that brand. No one would dare take away someone who belonged to the most powerful Dark wizard in our world."

Graces looked up at Neville and it was clear that this was the part she was scared to tell him.

"Draco took the dark mark next," she whispered, staring at Neville for his reaction. "Our mother tried to prevent it. She did, but Draco wouldn't listen to her. He wouldn't listen to any of us. And my aunt kept insisting it was for the best," Graces added bitterly.

"The thing is, though, it didn't work out for Draco the way it did for Nott. It seemed that the Dark Lord still harbored a lot of resentment and blame towards our father. Resentment and blame that has followed Draco." Graces was now crying again, and Neville couldn't even move to comfort her. It was all so surreal, so much worse than he expected. Draco was a Death Eater. Her family was that entangled in Voldemort's following. "The Dark Lord has given Draco a task that will almost certainly get him killed. It's the ultimate punishment to our father. He is going to let Draco be killed and slaughter the rest of us after. And he has placed Nott in charge of watching us."

"What's the task?" Neville breathed, feeling light headed.

"I think I've told you enough," Graces rasped.

"Is-is it to-to kill Harry?"

"No, the Dark Lord wants to kill Potter himself. He's safe from Draco."

"But what—"

"Longbottom, I cannot tell you anymore!" Graces screamed, her face red and wet from all her crying.

"Draco's a Death Eater," Neville murmured, still unable to believe it. "An actual Death Eater, marked and all. Bloody hell. Harry was right. He was right the whole time. No one wants to believe him, but he was right. And that's why you can't go to anyone. That's why you have to fear Nott, you all really are under his thumb. Oh gods."

"Oh my gods and goddess, you're going to tell," Graces moaned, placing her head back in her knees. "You're going to tell. We're dead. We're all dead. It's all my fault."

Neville watched as Graces shook from her tears, struggling with each breath, as she continued to repeat over and over again that they were going to die, that it was her fault, that it was over. He shook his head and waited for the ringing in his ears to stop. It was one thing to know that they planned on being Death Eaters, but knowing Draco was now…

Neville pulled Graces arms away from her and lifted her head up to face him, ignoring that the girl was doing everything to not look at him.

"Graces. Graces, look at me. Graces, please."

If anything Graces reaction just became worse. Her breathing had now become so erratic that Neville was sure she was about to pass out. Not knowing what else to do he pushed her down and kissed her.

Graces immediately stopped crying and just stared at him as he braced himself on top of her.

"I am not going to tell," he said evenly. "I need a day, okay?" Graces nodded slowly. "Tomorrow, I want you to meet me in the classroom. Will Nott try to do this again before then? Good. I have a solution to Nott trying to take advantage of you, but I need a day."

Graces just stared up at him, her dewy skin and watered eyes glistening in the early light.

"You really won't tell?" she asked in obvious disbelief.

"No, I won't," Neville repeated, getting up and gathering his things. "We can discuss that later. I can't talk about it now. I-I just need to process all this."

And he did. He did need to process all this. Draco was a Death Eater. The brother of the girl he was in love with was a Death Eater. Neville couldn't even start to process what all that meant. Graces loved Draco unconditionally. She loved him more than anything in this world. She talked about him constantly. He was a package deal with her, and he was a Death Eater. Up until a few months ago they were basically the same person in his mind; Draco and Graces Malfoy, not Draco Malfoy and Graces Malfoy, and now this. Her other half was—

"Longbottom?" Neville stopped at the door, he didn't turn around to face her, but he stopped. "Why were you here? I mean-why were you waiting by the woods?"

Neville glanced over at his wrist that still had the lip stain on it. It was faded, and now covered in his dried blood, but still there. He had stared at that little mark all night wanting nothing else but to have Graces in his arms again. It drove him insane with need.

"I couldn't stop thinking of you," he said quietly, turning around and lifting his wrist. "I was hoping to catch you coming back to the castle. Thought maybe we could end the night together."

Graces just nodded sadly and looked down at her hands.

"Do you need anything? Or are you okay to get back to the castle alone?"

"I'm fine," she said hollowly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Neville repeated, leaving the barn.

I'm in a podcast talking about this fic! If any of you are interested in hearing me discuss this fan fic, feel free to check out the podcast. I posted it on my profile for those of you who are interested.

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Phoenix, I mentioned one of your crazy reviews at one point in the podcast ;) in a totally affectionate way of course.