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 lipgossandcigarettes, Bharm, noone297, Manoirmalfoys, iamacola, 000janedoe000, Gaia-sama, spannieren, OzeraBand, Blue Luver5000, and Lizzy B for their reviews!
Chapter 35
Graces was now regretting her deal with Hermione. Not that it was really a deal, but the point was that she was giving Neville his space. He didn't approach her and she didn't approach him. Days had passed like this, to the point where Graces was beyond fatigued. She had stopped having a good night's rest. Again she was plagued with night terrors, only now other horrible atrocities were in the mix: Nott cornering her alone in an abandoned room and ripping off her clothes, Draco and her mother both being tortured, her father being killed in Azkaban, the list went on and on. One dream would morph into the other and she would wake up in a pool of her own sweat and cry.
"Y-You ok-k-kay?"
Graces looked up from her book and smiled as Thomas took a seat next to her in the arm chair.
"Never better, darling, just tired."
"Y-y-you l-look m-m-more than t-t-tired," Thomas observed, leaning back against the cushion. "Y-you l-look f-f-f-fat-t-tig-gued."
"Is that your way of telling me I look like shit, Thomas?" Graces sighed, leaning against her friend's shoulder and closing her eyes.
"L-language," Thomas tittered.
"No one is around and it's late, no need to be so proper."
"Are y-you w-w-waiting f-f-for D-d-draco?"
"I don't know," Graces admitted, staring sadly out at the murky water beyond the window. "Maybe I'm just standing still," she whispered absently.
Thomas frowned at the statement, but didn't push any further. Graces looked like a wreck. There were large bags under her eyes and her cheeks held no color. It was late, he could make the excuse that she was just tired, but he had a feeling it was something more. He wondered where Draco disappeared to all the time and if he realized his sister was in such a bad way. He's in a bad way too. Thomas looked sideways at Graces leaning on his shoulder, and slowly raised his arm up to put around her. To his surprise Graces allowed the touch, and even pulled herself more on the couch so that she could rest against him.
"How are things going with Arisanti?"
"O-k-kay," Thomas shrugged.
"Slytherin lost 20 points today because you two were snogging in some abandoned hall," Graces pointed out lightly. "I would gather that that means things are going more than okay."
Thomas blushed at having his behavior pointed out, and wondered if Graces was about to say more on that subject.
"Reservation is always best, Thomas. You should know that."
"It-t's j-j-just e-easier to s-s-snogg th-than t-t-talk," Thomas blushed.
"I see," Graces hummed. "I've noticed that she is always busy when we are in the common room." Thomas narrowed his eyes at the girl leaning against him. "That makes it impossible for you two to talk, considering that you cannot speak outside of this safe haven. I suppose it's easier to snog than talk for her as well."
Thomas just sat quietly and let Graces' words hang in the air above them. He didn't really want to examine his relationship with Wendelin. She was a pretty girl who was interested in him. She would sit with him in the Great Hall, allow him to walk her to class and kiss him senseless. And for him that was enough for now. He enjoyed it. No girl had ever given him such attention before. Sure it was annoying that she was always asking him to do wandless non verbal spells. Sometimes he felt like he was watching one of his nieces or nephews and they were asking him to show them magic, but it was a fair price to pay for the company. It wasn't as though he could talk to her out in public, might as well perform a spell here and there to entertain her.
"I just want you to make sure that you find a girl who is in love with you and not just your magic," Graces continued quietly.
"J-just hav-ving s-some f-f-fun," Thomas shrugged, trying to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. "I-I'm n-n-not an hei-heir. I c-c-can h-have f-f-fun."
"I didn't mean to upset you."
Thomas knew Graces didn't mean to upset him, but she also didn't mean to protect him from being upset. Her tone told him that. She wanted him to be aware, so she was making him aware. He wondered if she was going to go any further and write to his mother about the subject, if she did he really couldn't argue. Graces was now a part of the family, like an older sister, and if he were to be upset about her doing such things the family would side with her. Especially if she pointed out what she saw and the reasons she was worried.
"I'm not going to tell anyone. You can have your fun, I would just like for you to be aware to maintain a distance. I don't trust a girl that is drawn to power. It reminds me too much of my aunt."
"Wh-what d-d-draws y-you in?" Thomas asked, wanting to switch the conversation away from him. He watched as Graces stared off and became lost in some sort of memory.
"Kind eyes and a warm smile," she hummed. "Not a smirk, a smile. Like the ones where you can see a bit of teeth… genuine. It's an incredible feeling to walk into a room and see someone smile like that at seeing you."
"And w-who, m-m-may I ask, is s-s-smiling at the s-s-sight of y-you?" Thomas teased.
"No one," Graces choked, moving and burying her head into Thomas' side. Thomas sat there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Graces was not the kind of girl to show weakness like this to anyone, and she was showing it to him. He knew this was a big gesture in what he meant to her, and he racked his brain for something reassuring to say, but the thing was he didn't know why she was upset to begin with. "I'm very tired, I think I shall go to bed."
Thomas made to say something, but before he could Graces was hurrying towards the stairs, making sure he wasn't able to get a glimpse of her face as she left. He sat in the chair his hairs on his arms now raising from the missing warmth of Graces' body.
"A bit late for you to be up." Thomas looked over to see Draco entering the common room. If he thought Graces looked like a mess it was nothing in comparison to her brother. Draco didn't just have bags under his eyes, he had droops under them. And he looked as though he had taken an aging potion. His whole face looked ashen, not pale, and his hair even had a dull look to it, instead of it's usual luster. "So, are you going to tell me why you are out of bed? Or are you just going to sit there staring at my pretty face," the blonde grumbled, moving forward.
"G-graces w-was w-w-waiting f-f-for y-you. I w-w-"
"Was keeping her company?" Draco offered helpfully. Thomas nodded and waited for him to say more. "I take it she became tired and went to bed. Something you should have done as well," Draco added giving Thomas a pointed look.
"W-w-where w-w-were y-y-ou?"
"Nowhere you need to know about," Draco said, giving Thomas a warning glare. "Go to bed, Thomas. It's late."
Thomas nodded and began walking over to his dorm.
"How is my sister by the way?" Draco called after, taking a seat in the arm chair, pulling out a flask and taking a generous swig.
"F-f-fine," Thomas lied. "Sh-she's f-f-fine."
Draco looked up at him for a moment, and Thomas did his best to school his features to a normal expression.
"You're lying," Draco observed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But considering you are lying to me about this subject, it means you feel she is still doing better than I am. I'm touched that you are trying to save me from such worry," Draco smirked. "She's just a bit shaken at the moment. It will pass. I've been slipping her a calming potion lately. It's easy; a few drops on a piece of chocolate and she's gold. She won't refuse chocolate or cocoa. Trust me, I know what I'm doing; she doesn't even notice."
"W-why n-n-not g-g-give h-h-her the d-d-draught of p-p-p-peace?"
"Calming draught allows her to feel numb. Draught of peace takes care of anxiety and allows you to think clearly, but I like the calming potion for her more. It's not as hard to make. No need for there to be clarity. Calming draughts are better for hysterics. It's working isn't it?"
Thomas stood near the staircase, and tried to think about how he felt about Draco drugging his sister like this.
"If I didn't drug her she would be a mess. I'm doing it for her own good."
"Sh-she's l-l-like the w-w-walking d-d-dead l-l-lately," Thomas wailed. "Y-you c-c-can't d-d-do th-that!"
"She wasn't doing well, she got some bad news after the quidditch game, and then she seemed to just be taking it worse. You know I saw her crying in the library a few days ago? Crying, Thomas. In public where people could see. Luckily, no one else was there, but what if someone had been there? I don't have the time to be there for her, so I did the next best thing: I gave her a feeling of calm. I've been doing it for days. No harm has come out of it. Tomorrow, I think she needs a sleep potion. She's not sleeping I can tell, and I think she's having night terrors." Thomas stared at the boy sitting on the couch. He couldn't even imagine how Graces would feel about all this. The past few days she had just been a shell. She would do her work, tutor, and just sit in that armchair. She didn't talk to anyone, she just sat there staring, and it was all because of a damn potion. "Think what you want of me, but I need you to slip her a calming draught tomorrow morning at breakfast and a sleeping potion at dinner. I have somewhere to be and I can't do it."
"No."
"You would rather her be so upset she can't even function?" Draco accused, standing up and walking over. "Because right now she is functioning. She is playing the game. She is smiling here, talking to Pansy and Blaise there, and getting her work done. She is in some kind of funk, and I am doing my best to make her as normal as possible. Right now, she is carrying on during the day as though things are fine, at night when it wears off she is a mess. I'm not blind. Give her the potion. Allow her to get through her day at least."
Thomas looked down as Draco towered over him. He knew it was wrong, that if Graces ever found out she would be hurt and betrayed, but he thought about how bad it would look to the Malfoy family if she behaved out in the halls as she was behaving alone here in the common room. Graces was more respected here. Even when she was not being as strong as usual, she was still seen as a pillar of strength. She didn't cry openly, she just sat doing her work looking sad. That was her being weak in the common room with the draught wearing off. Could he really rip it away from her? During school hours no one knew she was upset just by looking at her. If he refused to help Draco would she be crying in class?
Defeated by Draco's twisted logic, he held out his hand for the potion.
"Just three drops," Draco warned, "she still needs to be able to think somewhat clearly. Don't give her the whole vial." Thomas just nodded meekly and continued staring at the ground. "And… if you think you can swing it without her knowing, give her a dreamless sleeping potion in her dinner drink. She usually will refill her goblet twice with water, so you would only be able to give her two thirds of the potion, but if you offer her a hot chocolate later you would be able to give her the rest."
"R-right," Thomas rasped.
Draco sighed and stepped forward placing his hand on Thomas' shoulder.
"You swore an oath to protect my sister. She told me about it. Sometimes you have to protect someone from themselves. Graces is softer than she lets on. She can't always play the stone princess on her own."
"A-and if sh-she f-f-finds out?"
"She will slit our throats in our sleep," Draco smiled playfully. "But there are worse deaths," he shrugged before allowing Thomas to go to bed for the night.
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Thomas stood staring at Graces as she sipped her morning tea at the breakfast table. There was no way she had slept last night. Oh, she had glamored herself up well, placed blush on her cheeks, and did a multitude of illusions to make her seem as though she were fine, but her magical glamor that she had placed on her eyes was not at all up to par. They were bloodshot and she looked as though she could fall on the table at any moment to sleep.
Nervously he fingered the chocolate bar in his pocket. It was all simple enough, he had opened the wrapper, laced the chocolate, and then sealed it magically to look untouched. It was that simple. Graces would never know it had been tampered with.
"Morning, Thomas," Graces greeted, taking a long sip of her tea. "Not going to sit with your darling today?"
Thomas shrugged, and reached over for some toast and eggs. Graces just smiled kindly into her tea and continued taking small sips here and there. She seemed well enough, aside from the lack of sleep, and really a calming potion wouldn't help with that. Thomas began to wonder if he should follow through with Draco's plan at all. Graces seemed fine, and if there was no need for him to do this task then he should just leave her be.
"My mother is taking me off campus today," Pansy mused from her piece of toast. "She's making the trip over to take me out for the afternoon, just for some Sunday shopping. Would you want to go, Gray?"
"Sorry, I can't. I need to tend to my herbology project. It's not doing so well," Graces said quietly, placing her tea down and running her temples.
"Oh, come on Graces. It will be so much fun. I bet my mother will get us icecream too! And we can look at th—"
"Pansy, that all sounds great, but I really can't," Graces sighed. "I'm sorry."
Pansy pouted dejectedly for a few moment's before she perked up again.
"Longbottom! Ask Longbottom to tend to the plant! I bet he wouldn't mind. He's always in the greenhouse on Sunday mornings anyways, he loves that stuff, and he seems sweet on you! Plus, he's your partner after all and you have been spending so much time tutoring him in potions so—"
"I do not need Neville fucking Longbottom to save my plant!" Graces snapped, slamming her cup of tea down onto the table and causing it to crack. Pansy and him exchanged a quick glance to one another, both silently seeing if the other was noticing the changes in their friend. "I'm sorry," Graces whispered, magically fixing her cup, and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I-I just am a bit tired and I just don't want to talk to Longbottom anymore than I have to. It's Sunday," Graces said quietly. "I think I'm entitled to a peaceful Sunday."
Thomas and Pansy both just nodded awkwardly, both unsure of what to say. Pansy eventually put on a fake smile and said she needed to get ready, leaving Thomas alone with Graces who just stirred her eggs around on her plate.
"Why aren't you sitting with Arisanti?"
Because I'm going to try and drug you. Thomas shrugged, and took a sip of his tea. Now or never… Casually he took out a chocolate frog, and began nibbling in it's head. As though he were the one with a sweet tooth that ate candy in the mornings. After a few moments he took out another one and offered it over to the girl sitting next to him.
"No thanks, I made myself sick off chocolate the other day, so I'm taking a break from it."
Shit. Shit-shit-shit. Thomas moved the chocolate frog over to her and waved his hand indicating that she could have it later, but Graces didn't take the bait. She just smiled smally and told him he was a sweetheart and that she was fine.
It was as she picked up her bag and said she was going to go work on her plant that Thomas began to really worry. If Draco had indeed given her that potion for days coming off it like this, with little sleep, and still the same troubles may make her even more upset. But he couldn't force her to eat the chocolate.
"I'll see you later, Mr. Higgs," Graces called, trying to sound playful, but her appearance and voice not quite giving that affect. Instead Thomas felt a sense of foreboding.
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Neville stared sadly down at Graces' dying plants. He had no idea what she had done to it, but whatever she did it was bad. The leaves were yellowing, it wasn't reacting to touch, it was as though the plant had given up on life.
Temperature is fine. Soil looks good. Good lighting, she could have positioned these ones better, but not too bad. Did she put any charms on to keep pests away?... Hmmmm, maybe they weren't strong enough…
With that thought the Gryffindor began running diagnostic spells around the plant, as well as throwing in a few spells he had learned from his Uncle Algie to try and improve Graces' project.
"What are you doing?" A cold voice asked from behind. Neville inwardly cursed as he realized he had been caught by Graces. Slowly he turned around, and flinched when he saw the amount of anger in the girl before him. "I asked you a question, Longbottom. What the bloody hell are you doing to my plants?!"
"I was just trying to help," Neville declared, tightening his jaw. "In case it escaped your notice they are dying."
"I don't need your help," Graces spat, pushing Neville aside and standing between him and the plants.
"They're dying," Neville stressed slowly, moving his chin down and giving Graces a stern look. "Just let me finish up and I'll get out of your hair."
Neville moved to continue, but Graces moved as well blocking any advances.
"Get away from my plants." Graces growled. "I don't need your help, Longbottom. Take a day off from being the bloody hero."
"Trust me, I wish I could," Neville heaved, moving Graces out of the way and checking the leaves on the plant. He continued trying to piece together what could possibly be causing the plant to die, all the while continuing to ignore the girl beside him.
"You can't do this," Graces hissed. "You can't have space and barge into my life like this. You—"
"I'm not barging in on your life," Neville objected, obviously exasperated. "I am simply helping my herbology partner, nothing more."
"Right," Graces gritted. "Nothing more." Neville paid no mind to Graces' words and took out his want to try and fix the plant in front of him, but before he could do anything Graces snatched his wand away and tossed it across the room.
"You have got to be kidding me," Neville seethed.
"Get. Out."
Neville turned towards the door and started striding over, he probably should have walked out, left Graces alone, given himself space to cool off, but he didn't. Instead he plucked up his wand and with a more determined stride headed back.
"What is your issue?" Graces screeched. "Just get out. Take your space and leave. I don't want your help. I don't want you around me. Get out!" Neville just continued to ignore Graces' childish temper tantrum and continued to work on the plants. He had just started looking over the leaf for nerve damage, when the pot was whisked away and thrown to the floor, shattering the clay pot and leaving an explosion of soil, roots and leaves in its wake. Before he could even process what was happening Graces was grabbing pot after pot of her plants and destroying each one, throwing them down onto the greenhouse floor.
"Have you completely lost it?" Neville cried, taking a step back as Graces began stomping on the clumps of soil that clinged to the roots.
"No, I. Have. Not!" Graces stomped.
"Stop it! Malfoy, stop it!" Neville was trying to get Graces to stop. Holding her arms and moving her away from the ruined plants.
"Oh, so I'm Malfoy now," Graces snarled, tearing herself away. "No longer Graces?"
Neville swallowed hard and closed his eyes, praying for the strength to continue on with gaining what he needed. When he opened his eyes Graces was standing before him, her lips pursed together tightly, as tears streamed down her face.
"Just leave," Graces gritted furiously. "Leave. I know you want to, so go ahead." Neville looked down at the broken pots and pants covering the floor, the same floor that they had once laid together on. "Its not your mess to worry about. It's mine. You can leave."
Neville took a step forward. It could all end here, he could hold her close right now, kiss her lips and declare that he didn't want to go. That he wanted to stay here in this mess with her. He could tell that despite her telling him to leave she wanted him to stay. He took in her bared teeth and her dirt covered clenched hands and knew that she was hurting and she was choosing to feel anger. With one movement he could take all her hurt and anger away.
But he didn't. Instead he turned and walked out the door.
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"I don't understand," Professor Sprout repeated slowly. "You lost your temper… with a plant." Professor Sprout watched as the young Malfoy nodded her head in agreement. It didn't make sense. Neville's half of the project was in perfect health, and Graces' half wasn't even there for her to look over. She wasn't even able to see what had caused the plant to die. When she asked Graces where the plant was she had only blushed and muttered that she had "lost her temper with it."
"So… when you say you lost your temper with the plant you mean you…"
"Threw the pot to the ground and stomped on it," Graces admitted quietly, toying with her left finger.
"Maybe we could look in the trash and I can evaluate the leaves left on it," Professor Sprout thought out loud, not wanting to fail Graces outright on the project when she had been doing so well and trying so hard.
"We could," Graces said hesitantly. "If I hadn't lit the bin on fire after I tossed it…"
"Oh Gods, child, you didn't?" Professor Sprout sighed as Graces bit her lip and nodded that she had in fact done just that. "I can't give you any credit for over half the project without a plant to evaluate. I can only grade your paper, meaning you failed this whole assignment. Why did you do such a stupid and rash thing?"
"I don't know."
"I won't accept that," Professor Sprout clipped, not at all wanting to allow the girl in front of her to just move on from such a poor decision. "I want to know why."
"I-I just became frustrated. I had done everything correct. The temperature, the soil, the lighting, handling the pods delicately, everything, and the plant continued to die… I just became frustrated…"
"Why didn't you ask your partner for help?" The stout professor then turned and stared at Neville who had not said a word during all this. "Why didn't you help her? Surely, you noticed her half of the project was dying. Why didn't you help her?"
"She didn't want my help," Neville mumbled quietly, staring down at the table.
Professor Sprout stood dumbfounded at the two students in front of her. She was about to start reprimanding Graces, but as she stared at the girl before her she couldn't find it in her. She looked like a wreck. The herbology professor knew that the girl in front of her must be going through a lot. Having her father locked up, and news of his trial being plastered all over the papers. And only the gods knew how much it was affecting her. Snape certainly was keeping tight lipped over the students in his house. The rest of the faculty discussed the issues that the war was bringing to their students, but Snape never mentioned a word.
"See me after class, Miss Malfoy," Professor Sprout ordered, moving away from the girl and continuing on to the next plant.
Professor Sprout sat at her desk and watched her only Slytherin of that year as she took her exam on the unit. She knew that Graces was a bright witch, that she was trying in her class, and that she understood the material, but she didn't know the girl. Not really. She liked her though.
She liked that she tried. Graces had a black thumb, she had realized that her first year, but despite it the blonde passed and she passed on her own merit. Professor Sprout had many times wondered if she would see Lucius Malfoy in her office demanding his daughter to receive a better grade or something of that nature, but it had never once happened. If Graces did poorly on a project she asked to come in and have what she did wrong explained to her. If she was struggling with a concept she asked for more books. She never asked for her grade to be bumped up.
But still. These were all reasonable expectations of a student. None of these reasons were anything special as to why the Professor enjoyed the Malfoy girl in her class. What made her particularly fond of the girl was her reaction after receiving a grade from an assignment that had been particularly hard for her. The first time Professor Sprout had given Graces a barely passing mark, she thought the girl would be upset. After all she had worked harder than anyone else in the class and her plants still refused to bloom correctly. But Graces hadn't ever looked disappointed. She would take the score card with a look of great apprehension, and upon seeing the passing score her eyes would light up and a small smile would peek out from the corner of her mouth. She was proud. Graces Malfoy was a privileged girl that had the world at her fingertips, and she still took pride in what she earned, what she worked hard for. And, as the head of Hufflepuff, Professor Sprout could appreciate such characteristics.
As the class ended she waited patiently for Graces to approach her. She was surprised that she hadn't come up to her desk right away and instead lingered putting her things away. Her partner on the other hand looked as though he were going to bulldoze someone down to get to the door. That was odd, Neville usually didn't rush out of her class.
"You wanted to see me," Graces reminded unnecessarily, approaching the desk. The older woman continued examining the girl in front of her. The voice and stance were so very much like her father: arrogant, proud, stoic. But Narcissa was in there too: soft, quiet, and expressive eyes.
"Are you alright?" Graces flinched at the question, causing the older woman to smile sympathetically. "I understand that this year must be hard for you, with your father's incarceration and-"
"I am fine," Graces interrupted coldly, her gray eyes clouding dangerously. "Thank you for your concern, Professor, but it is not needed."
"You don't seem fine," Professor Sprout continued. "And you don't look fine either. You look as though you haven't slept in days. Graces, if something is bothering you I just want you to know you can talk to me."
"It's noted," Graces clipped cooly, staring down at the Professor with a tightened jaw. "May I leave now?"
"No, not yet," the Hufflepuff sighed, realizing she was getting the Lucius side of the girl. "I still do need to discuss your grade." This seemed to be a more comfortable subject for Graces, because she placed her bag down and took a seat. "I can't give you any credit for a plant you don't have. And because you and Mr. Longbottom decided to divide the work I can't give you credit for his as well." Graces nodded in understanding and waited patiently for the professor to continue, clearly ready to hear the news that she was going to fail this unit. "I can't give you a passing grade on this assignment, Graces. I am very sorry, but it's just not possible without the plant. If you had still had the plant even if it were dying that would have been better."
Professor Sprout sighed as Graces just nodded along sadly.
"You're a bright witch, Graces Malfoy, exceptionally hard working and fiercely determined. I like that, but what you did was very stupid. And it only hurt you in the end. Why didn't you just ask your partner for help? Neville is in here all the time, he would not have minded."
"I didn't want Longbottom to save me," Graces muttered darkly. "I wanted to do it myself."
"I don't understand," Professor Sprout gaped. "You were doing so well with Neville as your partner. Why would you stop working together on the assignments? I even thought you two were getting along, friendly even at times." Sprout realized the last sentence was definitely not helping her as Graces glared across the desk. "Oh, come come Miss Malfoy, you have to admit it isn't so horrible working with Neville. I have even caught you smiling on occasion."
"Do you see us smiling together now?" Graces asked, a challenging eyebrow raised.
"No, not lately," Professor Sprout admitted. "Still, why have you two stopped working more closely together?"
"Because I am a Malfoy, and he is a Longbottom," Graces declared, standing up and gathering her things. "I very much regret my mistake, Professor, and let me assure you it will not happen again. I really should be heading to my classes now though."
"Right," Sprout nodded. "Of course. Just bear in mind that you now have very limited room for failure. Being partners with Mr. Longbottom has allotted you a very nice grade, but this assignment has really taken that grade down. It would be wise to go back to working as you two were before. Understand?"
Graces nodded and walked out of the greenhouse, not even bothering to ask for an excusal slip. Professor Sprout wondered if she should talk to Severus, and then decided she would rather not have to deal with the potion master's unpleasant mood.
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Neville stared at the ceiling of his dorm room. He had debated going to the common room with the rest of his house, but really there was no point. He hadn't been able to properly interact with people for days. All he did was sit there thinking of Graces and how much he missed her. He missed their playful banter, their long discussions about nothing and how Graces always listened to him. If he started prattling on and on about something he read about a plant, she would sit there hanging on every word. He never had to be embarrassed or shy with her. If he did, for whatever reason, say something silly she would just laugh and tease him for it. He still was hearing about "thank you". Neville smiled as he thought about Graces' constant need to remind him about his awkward statement. What had been one of his most embarrassing moments had now turned into a private inside joke.
"There's that smile we've all been missing." Neville sat up to see Dean strolling over to his bed. "Are you out of your foul mood now?"
"Foul mood?" Neville asked.
"Yeah, foul mood. That's what it's called when you don't want to talk to your mates and you spend your meal hours scowling into your food."
Neville blushed at his behavior and began to babble apologies, but Dean just waved them all away.
"It's fine, Nev. Not like we all have been desperately seeking your attention. Ron has been snogging Lavender, I've been busy snogging Ginny, I think Seamus is trying to get something to happen with Parvati, and Harry has been obsessing over Malfoy."
Neville tried to ignore the sting of guilt that pierced his heart at the last statement. Harry was right, and he wasn't going to tell him. Harry who could be responsible for saving the wizarding world, who needed all the information he could get, and he was withholding the knowledge that there was indeed a Death Eater at hogwarts.
Graces needs Draco. He is the only person she has anymore, you cannot take him away from her. You cannot strip her family of the last person who is able to protect them.
This is so wrong…
Do you want to be right? Fine, tell him. Just be prepared to see the girl you love lowered into an early grave. That's if they ever even find the body. Susan Bone's aunt is still missing.
"You okay, Nev? You look a bit pale there."
"I'm fine," Neville rasped, wanting to get away from his current thoughts. "How are things with you and Ginny?"
"Grand when we're not fighting." Neville raised an eyebrow at Dean's tone. "I like that she has a bit of a feistiness to her, but other times it's just hard to deal with. She can be like Ron sometimes. Sometimes I don't even know what I did to set her off!"
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Neville chuckled.
"Do you now?" Dean asked frowning.
Neville blushed and muttered something about his gran and how he could relate, and was relieved when Dean just nodded. He wished he could have just laughed and said his girl was the same and told Dean about the ridiculousness that was Graces Malfoy, how if someone so much as touched his arm she became peeved or how they were not in a relationship. They were friends that enjoyed shagging each other.
"So yeah, we're fighting right now," Dean continued, not realizing that Neville hadn't been listening.
"Oh, umm, sorry, mate. That's rough…"
"Yeah, it is… but hey," Dean continued, a sly smile forming on his face. "Making up is always fun."
Neville tried not to smile to widely at how true that statement was.
"So, you planning on just moping in here all day?"
"Nothing else to do really," Neville shrugged.
"I can think of something for us to do," Dean said with a grin.
A few hours later and it was official. Neville was pissed. And not pissed as in mad, pissed as in had drank way too much with Dean.
"I haven't been this drunk since September," Neville slurred.
"You got pissed in September? Really?"
"Yeah," Neville chuckled. "Best night of my life."
"Why was it the best?"
"I may be drunk mate, but I'm not drunk enough to tell you that," Neville laughed, causing Dean to just frown, perplexed. "I'm starved. I haven't ate in days."
"Let's go find the kitchen then."
"You're mad, we're piss drunk and you want to stumble through the halls to find the kitchen?"
"Where's your Gryffindor courage, Neville?" Dean teased. "What, you can battle at the ministry, but not leave the dorm drunk?"
"I'm more scared of my gran than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Neville deadpanned. "Or Snape. I do not want to get caught piss drunk by Snape."
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"Let me get this straight, Higgs," Draco gritted, trying desperately hard to regain his temper. "You were unable to give my sister a potion yesterday, and most of today so in a last effort to at least give her a sleeping potion you made her some hot cocoa and put it in a thermos. Am I following you correctly?"
Thomas nodded his head nervously.
"Then after you gave her the thermos she declared she was going to go to the library to read?" Thomas nodded again in confirmation. "Then when she didn't return you checked the library and couldn't find her."
Thomas was now much too frightened to move let alone nod. Draco's nostrils were flaring out and a dangerous tremble was now absorbing his body.
"So the assumption is that my sister is passed out somewhere in the castle."
"Or o-o-outs-side of it."
"Thomas, you better pray to the gods and goddesses she is not outside of these walls."
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"I'm telling you I heard it was by the Hufflepuff common room."
"Yes, I heard that," Neville grumbled, "but you don't know where their common room is so that's a pretty useless tidbit."
"Stop your whining, Longbottom," Dean grinned. "You're having fun. Admit it."
"Maybe," Neville admitted, sending his friend a small smile.
"So what is it that has had you so upset lately?"
"Nothing. I think I'm just a bit stressed over classes," Neville lied.
"Look, Nev, I get you like your privacy and all, but maybe it would help to talk about it."
"It really wouldn't," Neville maintained. "Trust me, Dean, you don't want to know."
The darker boy opened his mouth to argue, but then stopped as he noticed someone on the castle floor.
"Is that Malfoy?" Dean asked in surprise. But no answer came, because Neville was already running forward. Dean quickly ran to catch up, though he had no idea what to do. Neville seemed beside himself though. "Is she dead? Or petrified?"
"She is not dead," Neville snarled. "Don't even think that."
"Sorry, I—"
"She's just sleeping. That's all; she's asleep."
Dean took a step back as Neville lifted Graces up. He was right. The blonde was sleeping, and apparently very cuddly as she slept. Dean laughed as Graces buried her nose in Neville's shirt and let out a content sigh. Neville blushed, but to Dean's surprise he seemed a bit pleased with Graces reaction.
"Do—do you think she was drugged?" Neville stammered, looking frightened.
"No, no," Dean reassured. "Look how we found her. Slumped against the wall holding a book with some hot cocoa. She must have just drifted off during her prefect rounds or something."
"But she's not waking up," Neville continued, giving the girl a small shake causing her to groan sleepily and try to turn more into Neville's chest to hide her face.
"She's fine, just sleeping. She almost seems sweet when she's asleep," Dean commented. "Like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White."
"Who?" Neville whispered, adjusting his hold so he had a better grip under the blonde's legs.
"They're fairy tales, I mean, ummm, children's tales, my mum tells my sisters. They're about these princesses that are put under spells by witches that cause them to sleep forever until these handsome princes find them and kiss them."
"Why would a witch put a spell like that on anyone?" Neville asked offhandedly. "That doesn't even make sense."
"Because they were jealous of the princesses' beauty," Dean shrugged.
"They could polyjuice themselves then. Or glamour themselves to be prettier," Neville argued. "No witch would do that."
"It's just some silly children's story, Neville," Dean pointed out annoyed. "Don't take it so seriously."
"How can you say that? You're a wizard. Do you really think it's okay for us to be made into villains like that?"
"Neville, it's just a story. Let it go."
Neville didn't particularly want to let it go. He had heard that muggles told fey tales about them being these evil malicious beings, and it was impossible for him to not let that strike a chord. He looked down at Graces and knew she would feel the same.
"So… these princes would just find these girls, asleep, as though they were dead and kiss them?"
"Basically," Dean shrugged.
"And you don't find that odd? Kissing a girl when she's at her most vulnerable without her knowledge."
"You make it sound like they were violating them or something,' Dean laughed, clearly not thinking much of the story.
"Well, they were weren't they? I mean. If you kissed Graces right now, you would be violating her. She has no power to stop you. It's taking advantage."
"Neville, you're overthinking this," Dean groaned.
"I don't think I am," Neville murmured quietly, remembering Graces passed out in the woods. "I would never kiss a girl I didn't know while she slept. It's just wrong."
"Well, I suppose that's good for Malfoy here," Dean laughed. "What should we do with her?"
"I don't know," Neville shrugged. "We can't leave her here. Maybe we could take her to our dorms. She could sleep in my bed." Dean stared at Neville as though he had lost his mind. "What?"
"We cannot take Graces Malfoy to our dorm, Neville. Blimey, sometimes I wonder about you."
"Well then what should we do?" Neville snapped.
"Take her to Pomfrey," Dean suggested, like it was the most obvious answer.
"Yeah, great plan. Let's show up smelling like firewhisky in the hospital wing."
"Fine!" Dean shouted. "Then an abandoned classroom. We can put her in one of those."
"I am not discarding her in a cold dingy classroom," Neville growled. "She's coming with us. She can sleep in my bed where she will be warm and safe. I am not leaving her abandoned in a school that is famous for its students almost dying every year. And you know what, I don't think she is just sleeping. She would have woken up if she were just sleeping."
"Maybe she's a heavy sleeper," Dean offered.
"She's not."
"How would you know? Maybe she is."
Neville stopped himself from arguing. Really, he had never seen Graces sleep. She always disappeared after. He wracked his brain for an answer anyways. Like saying no one could sleep this sound, but then he thought of Ron and that rebuttal went out the window.
"I just don't want to leave her. It doesn't feel right to leave her."
"Harry and Ron are going to kill us," Dean moaned. "I hope you are ready for that, Neville."
"I have a feeling Malfoy will kill us first," Neville chuckled, turning to head back to the Gryffindor tower. He and Dean had just reached the stairs when Thomas Higgs descended down the last few steps.
The young boy stared at both Gryffindors and Neville felt the hair on the end of his neck raise as the dark haired boy's eyes fell on Graces.
"We found her in a hallway," Dean explained, his eyes shifting from Neville to Thomas.
Neville wondered if there were classes for intimidation in the Slytherin house, as Thomas tilted his head to glare at Dean. Neville, without thinking, took a step back from the boy. A step that he regretted as soon as he went to take a second and realized he had been sticky charmed in place.
"Seriously?" he exclaimed. "Is that really necessary."
"What?" Dean asked, looking from Neville to Thomas.
"He sticky charmed me in place!"
"I don't see his wand," Dean argued, looking over at the young boy standing beside him.
"He doesn't need one." All three boys looked down the hall to see Draco striding over angrily. "Longbottom, why the hell are you taking my sister to Gryffindor tower? Put her down."
"I, uh, I—ow!" Neville shrieked, bending forward and hiding his face as Draco sent some sort of hex towards him. "What was that for!"
"Babbling on like an idiot and not putting my sister down," Draco hissed, directly in Neville's face.
"Hey, back off Malfoy," Dean growled, pushing the blonde boy away. "We weren't—"
"Don't touch me," Draco spat. "Keep your muddy hands to yourself."
"Watch it, Malfoy, or I'll—"
Dean didn't get a chance to finish his threat, before he could utter another syllable, Thomas had placed a binding and silencing charm on him. This time though, he did use his wand.
"Thank you, Thomas," Draco smirked, returning his gray eyes to Neville.
Neville clutched Graces tighter to himself as he stared into Draco's identical eyes. It was so surreal to be looking at those eyes glaring at him with an unlimited amount of hate, and being reminded of Graces. Neville moved his eyes away and tried to focus on another thing. But Draco had the same cheeks, the same skin, the same color hair, and the same temperament when angry apparently too.
"Longbottom, are you going to answer my question, and hand over my sister?" Draco whispered dangerously.
"Draco, do shut up. I'm trying to sleep," Graces groaned, moving her hand around as though she were absently trying to swat him away.
Neville's eyebrows raised at Graces' declaration, as did Draco's.
"Guess she didn't finish the cocoa," Draco murmured.
"You drugged her?" Neville hissed, making a motion forward, but pausing as he realized he was still stickied in place. "What's wrong with you?"
"Mind your own business, Longbottom," Draco whispered darkly, placing his hands under his sister's frame to take her. Neville flinched as he felt Draco's left arm brush against his, and he turned Graces away. "What do you think you are doing?"
"You can't drug her!" Neville reprimanded. "You just can't. What if someone found her, someone who wanted to hurt her and—"
"Why would anyone want to hurt my sister?" Draco asked suspiciously.
"You know why," Graces mumbled. "Cause our father was an even greater arse than Longbottom here. Now be quiet. I haven't slept in days. Longbottom," Graces yawned, "Make Draco be quiet. I'm so sleepy."
"Give me my sister, Longbottom," Draco repeated, his jaw tightening. "She is not your concern, she's mine."
Neville begrudgingly held Graces out, and stiffened as she grabbed his shirt, so Draco couldn't pull her away.
"Draco, I want to stay with Longbottom," Graces whined, not bothering to open her eyes. "He's soft, like a giant pillow."
Neville flushed at the comment and really wished that he had his wand so he could hex Thomas for his giggle as he eyed his stomach.
"I don't think Longbottom wants you to use him for your pillow," Draco muttered irritatedly, trying to peel his sister's fingers away from Neville's shirt.
"No," Graces yawned. "Probably not. He would want his space… He's a bit of an arse."
"I agree," Draco smiled, "That being said, why don't you let go of him and come with me."
"I don't want to choose," Graces muttered, drifting away again.
"Graces?" Draco frowned. "What did you say?"
Graces shook her head for a second as though trying to shake her sleep away, but it was no use. Her eyes fluttered closed as fast as they had been open.
"Give me to my brother," she whispered against Neville's chest. "I belong with him. I don't belong with you. Even though you're so soft. I can't stay," she continued gently, her hand loosening from his shirt. Neville hoped no one could see the pain etched on his face as Draco reached out and took her in his arms.
"Thomas, I'm no longer going to strangle you," Draco drawled, hoisting Graces up higher so his grip wouldn't slip. "I am instead going to tell Graces all the things she said because of you and then I shall let her kill you instead."
Thomas looked over at Graces for a moment and gulped audibly, clearly not at all excited for Draco's new plan. Both Slytherins turned away without so much as a second glance at the two Gryffindors.
"You were going to take her to our dorm, let her sleep in your bed, to ensure she was safe, and they can't even bother with a thank you?" Dean muttered darkly, after Thomas waved him free from down the hall.
"It doesn't matter," Neville sighed. "Let's just go to bed."
"You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Neville lied, already missing the feeling of being close to Graces. He could feel his magic hammering against his skin. It demanded to be near her again, threatening to tear him apart for the opportunity, but Neville just ignored that feeling. He was being foolish. He wanted space to figure things out and one second of holding Graces made him want to damn it all and just be with her, not caring about his emotional state or even the complications that it would cause for them. He didn't know if he could be all Graces needed, he was barely able to tend to himself. He needed to think. Love couldn't be enough to fix everything. It just couldn't be. The world didn't work like that. Loving Graces, while it was the most joyous feeling in the world, was like going through a field of flowers with poisoned thorns and expecting not to get pricked.
By the time he crawled into bed, his magic had become morose once again. Neville laid there and felt it out for a few minutes. He focused on the feeling of emptiness that was consuming him from the chest out, and when the thought occurred to him that maybe this feeling had always been there, but Graces had been the one to start filling it he turned into his pillow and allowed himself to shed a few tears.
Don't forget to follow/review! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! I know everyone doesn't really like Neville wanting space, but I feel it's needed. He was a bit naïve before about being in love with Graces, now is the time where he needs to reflect. Plus! Absence makes the heart grow fonder :P