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 Aleah for reading it through and letting me know a few odds and ends that needed to be better explained ;) I really don't know what I would do without these guys :D

Special thanks to lipglossandcigarettes, iamacola, Bharm, Keios, superscarface83, Manoirmalfoys, blahicantthinkofaname, Blue Luver5000, Candyluver2121, Phoenix, and Gracieisascroscro for their reviews!

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Chapter 39

Neville howled with laughter as Graces yelped and jumped about a foot in the air.

"You are not funny, Longbottom," Graces growled, moving towards where Neville was laughing, her arms out in front of her as her eyes looked around unseeing.

"I think I am," Neville teased, moving to the other side of the room and making Graces squeal again as he grabbed her side while passing by. "You're so ticklish!"

"You are not supposed to be tormenting me!" Graces whined, backing up into a corner and continuing to hold both hands out. "The festival is in two days and I have to make sure I can do this charm correctly. It has to last."

"Well, clearly you can do the charm correctly," Neville chuckled, enjoying how Graces eyes shifted warily to where she thought he was. "You can't see me."

"I hate you."

"You don't. You like me." Neville moved closer to the girl standing in the corner, careful to not allow her arms to touch him as he bent down on his knees before her. "In fact," he murmured huskily, untucking Graces' blouse from under her skirt and kissing her mid-drift. "You like me, like me." Graces jumped at his touch, but Neville continued kissing upward, unbuttoning her blouse as he climbed higher.

"This is weird," Graces shivered. "I can't see you."

"I know, it's part of the fun," Neville purred, copping a feel of Graces' backside and moving away as she took a swing at him.

"Longbottom!" Graces gasped, buttoning up her shirt. "What happened to you behaving like a gentleman?"

"I thought we were past me being a gentleman when I bent you over the desk Sunday."

"Longbottom!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Neville apologized gleefully, taking Graces hands and kissing her fingertips. "I'll behave now."

"Good," Graces clipped coolly, holding her nose up in the air at him.

"You're not mad," Neville smiled, watching Graces lovingly, thankful that he could look at her like this without her knowledge.

"How do you know? I could very well still be offended at you manhandling me."

"You're not mad," Neville repeated, moving closer so that the heat of his chest was radiating near hers. "I know you're not because you're still holding my hands."

Neville watched as Graces stared down at her hand hovering in midair, her delicate fingers curled around his hand without realizing it. He knew this was the sort of thing that would have Graces backing away in a few moments, but he still found himself wanting to test the waters. The past week had been amazing. They had been meeting alone almost every day and almost every night they ended up laughing and joking around with one another. Graces was so excited for the festival. She was constantly telling him something about it and prattling on about how he was going to just adore it and that by next year he would be joining in on the activities on his own. Neville really doubted that he would be. Most light wizards now considered this ritual a dark wizarding practice and he did not want that association, but he just smiled and said that they would see.

Aww, yes here it comes, Neville thought, smiling tenderly at Graces as she blushed and took a step back. Neville ordinarily would allow her the space, but he felt so much more daring with her being unable to see him. Gently he took one hand and pressed it to her lower back so she could move no further and he could come closer. Graces seemed a bit startled at the gesture, but he just cupped her face kindly in his other hand and kissed her.

It was odd how kissing Graces at times felt like the first time. He was hyper aware of his lips against hers, of her content sigh as he leaned more into her and of her hands wandering from his spine to find his hair, where they could entangle themselves. Oh how he loved her in moments like this, moments where she allowed him to love her.

She doesn't know you love her.

I don't care, Neville thought, lifting Graces up and setting her gently on a desk. He laughed as she gave a little eep.

"Longbottom, I can't see you!" Graces scolded, her knuckles still gripping his shirt from when he lifted her.

"Sorry, I—uh—forgot," Neville blushed. "Wait. You're telling me that you can jump off a broom in midair but can't handle me lifting you up when you can't see me?"

"It's different," Graces giggled.

"You're right, it is," Neville conceded. "One can kill you."

Graces just shrugged and mumbled about how he worried too much.

"I think I worry the right amount," Neville murmured, leaning in close and kissing her again, grinning as Graces continued in her new habit of moving one of her hands up his shirt and mixing her fingers in the tousle of hair on his chest. He wondered if she had any idea how that new touch affected him. He wanted to press her hand closer so she could feel how hard his heart was pounding from it and at the same time he didn't want to do anything but revel in the soft touch and make love to her just as softly.

She'll shy away.

Maybe not. She can't see me, so…

She will be able to feel it. She can feel the difference.

We'll see, Neville decided, slowly undressing her.

"I can't see you," Graces breathed, as he leaned down and trailed soft kisses along her collarbone.

"Well, you don't need to see me, do you?" Neville pointed out huskily, placing gentle kisses along the side of her jaw. "You just need to feel me."

Graces smiled and turned her head to his, meeting him in a longing kiss. Neville made sure to hold back from kissing her too hungrily, despite the fact that every fiber of his being wanted to have as much of her as possible. Still, he held himself back he wanted this all to be gentle and soft. He wanted to make love to her, savoring every touch he shared with her, not just have her the way he usually did. What surprised him the most about all this was that Graces seemed to be taking her time with it all too. Gingerly bringing her fingers up to his cheeks, as though she had been searching for his face, and sighing contently as they found their way into his hair.

"Always my hair," Neville smiled against her lips.

"I like your hair," Graces kissed back.

"You like me."

"I should have never told you," Graces giggled, still not moving her mouth from his and causing Neville to feel as though he were becoming intoxicated off the sweet sound against his lips.

"Well, I'm so glad you did," Neville whispered softly kissing her lower lip, and laying her down.

Neville had always known that sex was supposed to be used to show someone how you loved them, but in all his time being with Graces he had never really done that. He didn't kiss her body in ways that etched his love into her skin or held her close to him during their movements as though he couldn't bear the thought of living without her, but he wanted to. He wanted to make love to her like that. He wanted to be the kind of man that made love to the woman he cherished and proclaimed his love in a way that she could actually feel.

So far Graces was allowing him to do that, and even being as gentle with him as he was being with her, but it was right around the time where he had moved on top of her and was cradling her face in on hand about to enter her when he felt her tense. Her hands that had been wandering along his shoulders and neck halted and she moved away from his face, breaking their kiss.

"I-I'm sorry," she breathed, moving up and pushing him away from her. "I-I can't do this."

Neville reached out to try and soothe her, but backed away when Graces snapped at him not to touch her. The sandy-haired boy sighed but obeyed. He knew that he had been pushing the envelope with Graces and really wasn't too surprised at the state that they had now ended up in. He groped around the table for his trousers and half-heartedly dressed himself, trying to ignore the discomfort he was feeling in his groin.

"I-I'm sorry," Graces murmured, regaining herself. "I-I guess I got a little freaked out… Not being able to see you and us being about to...you know."

It was a lame lie, but Neville decided to allow her to keep it.

"It's fine," Neville said kindly, understanding how what he was doing actually scared her, but deciding not to point out that it was the intimacy. "You're fine, I understand." Neville kissed the side of Graces' head and moved behind her, rubbing her shoulders to try and help rid her of her anxieties. To his relief Graces seemed willing to accept this and didn't make a crazy excuse to leave like she normally would in these situations. Instead she leaned back on him, and though Neville could feel her trembling, she didn't leave.

"I really am sorry," Graces whispered after a while.

"I really don't mind," Neville reassured, smiling gently though he knew she couldn't see.

"You're always so patient."

"Mmm," Neville hummed. "A trait I supposedly got from my mother."

"That's a fine trait to have."

"I like to think so."

"Your gran doesn't seem patient."

"No, she's not," Neville chuckled, "but she has other admirable traits."

"Was she very hard on you growing up?"

"She's demanding."

"What's the difference?"

Neville was silent for a few minutes, clearly deep in thought about how to explain what he meant. Graces didn't rush him though, she just continued leaning on his chest waiting for a reply.

"She expects a lot out of me, but she has never withheld affection or comfort from me."

"She doesn't strike me as very affectionate."

"She has her own ways of showing affection."

"I always saw you as a bit frightened by her."

"I am wise enough to know when to be frightened of her," Neville laughed. "Have you met my gran? She can be pretty terrifying."

"So… you are frightened of her," Graces concluded slowly.

"I'm intimidated by her at times," Neville corrected. "And yes there are times I am scared for how she will react to something I did, but I'm not frightened of my grandmother, just frightened of her reaction."

"What does she do?"

"Just yells… and tells me how I'm not like my father," Neville added quietly.

"She shouldn't do that." Graces frowned, moving her hand to touch Neville's arm that was now around her. "She shouldn't compare you to your father like that. It isn't right."

"My father was a great man; she just wants me to be—"

"You can be a great man and not be the anything like your father. Often times great men step out of shadows. That includes the tall shadows their fathers cast as well."

There was a long silence in which Neville didn't say anything. He really didn't know what to say to that. He wanted to be like his father. It sounded so pathetic and childish to say though when Graces had so eloquently stated that he didn't need to be.

"You know," Graces started awkwardly. "I—uh—well, I think you are going to be a great man."

"Do you, now?" Neville frowned.

"Yeah, I mean why not?" Graces shrugged awkwardly. "You're a good man now, so it wouldn't be a great leap for you to become a great one."

Neville was all of the sudden extremely thankful that Graces couldn't see him right now. He didn't know why it meant so much that Graces thought of him this way, but it did. Knowing she felt he could be a great man, that she already thought he was a good man, made him feel as though everything was in his reach. She really believed that. Graces was not one to say nice things to make anyone feel better about themselves, and it sounded as though she really felt awkward delivering that compliment, so he knew she meant it. No one had ever had such faith in him before, and despite his best efforts to not get choked up about it he was.

He really wanted to believe that he was all the things Graces seemed to think of him, but at the same time he didn't know. His grandmother had raised him, she knew much more about him than Graces did and she didn't seem to hold the same beliefs. No one else besides Graces seemed to hold these beliefs.

"It's late," Graces pointed out awkwardly. "I need to go to bed. I think I have proven my brilliance and we can safely agree that my charm works."

Graces was now moving off the desk and pulling on her clothes.

"We can keep the charm on," Neville declared, as Graces reached for her wand. "I-I want to see exactly how long it lasts."

"Are you sure?" Graces frowned.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Well… okay then," Graces shrugged, clearly not understanding why Neville would want to remain under the charm. "Good night."

It was as Neville got up to kiss Graces goodbye that he realized that for days he had let her walk alone back to her common room with guys like Nott walking the halls.

"Actually, may I walk you to your common room?"

"Why?" Graces scowled.

"Because there are scumbags like Theodore Nott at this school, and I've been an idiot to let you walk back on your own."

"You're being paranoid," Graces smiled, leaning in and kissing Neville chastely on the lips. "I have a ring, remember? You said it would protect me."

"It will protect you from one thing and one thing only," Neville stressed, finding some discomfort in Graces' level of trust in that ring. "It will not save you from anything else."

Graces rolled her eyes, but allowed Neville to walk her under the condition that he didn't speak to her and if the charm started to wear off he would immediately leave. Side by side they walked to the dungeon, close enough so that their fingers would gently brush against the other's and Neville could feel the tickle of Graces' long hair wafting next to his elbow should he lean in slightly toward her.

"Graces?" Both students turned to see Draco heading down the hall towards them. He looked beyond tired, and there was a mixture of dust and cobwebs over his clothes. "What are you doing out of bed this late? Alone!" Draco added, clearly not pleased.

"Late night tutoring, Longbottom," Graces explained simply.

"No. This is not okay, Graces. I do not want you out and about late like this. Do you understand me?"

"There are aurors patrolling the halls and—"

"I just walked past one of those aurors sleeping at his post. I'm walking around here all the time and no one has spotted me, so no you will not be walking around this late at night," Draco reprimanded hotly. "Tutoring Longbottom is not worth your safety."

Neville cringed at what Draco was saying and truly hated himself for forgetting to think about Graces walking alone in the castle at night. Draco only needed to see her walking alone once to realize the implications and it had taken him months.

"What if Longbottom started to walk me to the dorm? Then would you care if I was out so late?"

"Yes!" Draco whelped. "Why the hell do you need to be out with Longbottom so late?"

"Because I don't want to rush him. Rushing a guy when you're in the middle of a romp is a good way to screw yourself out of a good orgasm."

Neville's eyes widened at Graces' statement and it took all his effort not to pinch the sassy blonde next to him to shut up.

"WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME!" Draco wailed, covering his eyes. "IMAGES, GRACES. IMAGES! AWFUL, AWFUL IMAGES!"

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding," Graces laughed, allowing her brother a moment of peace before continuing with a sly smile. "Longbottom is a gentleman through and through, and by gentleman I mean he takes the phrase 'ladies first' very seriously. Even if he was rushed I would be satisfied."

Draco groaned and Neville did reach out and pinch the back of Graces arm for that comment.

"Why? Why did the gods curse me with such a vile sister!" Draco moaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're really not funny. You're going to get yourself in trouble making jokes like that. I'm serious, Graces. If you have any amount of care in you for my nerves and stomach you will stop joking about that immediately."

Neville inwardly groaned as Graces just continued to smile knowingly, bopping up and down on her heels, clearly happy with tormenting her brother.

"You are not funny," Neville whispered in her ear as Draco groaned at her happy little display.

Neville had to stifle a grunt as Graces' elbow met his stomach, but the blonde continued looking quite satisfied with herself.

"Seriously though, Draco. Can Longbottom just walk me?"

"Don't you want to be with your kind?" Draco asked astonished. "Why are you so insistent on spending time with Longbottom? You know I had to lie to Blaise and Pansy about it the other day. I said you were still in your life debt to him. The thing is, I don't understand why I even need to lie. Why are you still spending this much time with him?"

Neville looked at Graces and waited for her to answer. There really wasn't a good explanation of why she was spending so much time with him and he had a bad feeling that he was about to lose his time with her.

"I can't stand being in the common room without you there," Graces swallowed. "It's—it feels wrong. And then Nott is always in there, and I feel like he is watching me, and I-I just can't be around him either. Tutoring Longbottom allows me to be away from all that."

"Yeah, but then you're with Longbottom," Draco reminded, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "And—and he fancies you. That can't be much better."

"It is though," Graces argued. "He works hard and we spend lots of time discussing potions and herbology. Last week we were discussing ways to cross breed plants and the affects it could have on the market for medicinal use. Can you imagine how much cheaper certain medicinal potions would be if that was done? It's all very interesting, and if I become a healer I was thinking we could invest in research for something like that."

"When you become a healer," Draco corrected, taking his sister's bag and putting it over his shoulder and giving her a long look. "Fine," he sighed. "You can continue on with late nights with Longbottom. If you give me a time, though, I can walk you back."

"Longbottom is capable, he tends to go off on these long rants that put us behind, so I would feel bad if you got there and we still were not finished."

"You let him go on these rants?"

"He may be awful with potions, but he is brilliant when it comes to herbology. So, yes, I let him rant. It's a good distraction for me."

"I never would have guessed that you could have a decent conversation with Longbottom," Draco murmured, astonished. Graces just shrugged and fiddled with her left ring finger awkwardly, clearly wanting Draco to get off the subject. "Well, come on. Let's head to bed. Our care packages are coming tomorrow, that will be nice won't it?"

Graces nodded and turned to walk with her brother. Neville saw her eyes shifting to her side and knew she was wondering if he was leaving as well. Careful not to disturb Draco in any way, he reached out and squeezed her hand affectionately good night before starting in the other direction.

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Neville watched Graces over the top of his herbology book the next morning at breakfast. He made sure not to be too obvious about the fact that he was watching her and trained his eyes to look down into the book more often than they were peeking over it to look at her, but watching Graces enjoy her morning breakfast was definitely the highlight of his day thus far.

He never thought he could cherish someone as much as he did Graces. Everything about her day mattered to him. He cared if she had a good breakfast just as much as he cared if she scored well on an exam. He wanted her to be happy. There was nothing too little or small about her day to him. He looked up for his next glance and grinned into his book after seeing Draco whisper some sort of joke into her ear.

"Morning, Neville."

"Morning, Harry," Neville greeted, taking a sip of his tea and returning to the herbology book. He honestly didn't want company this morning, he was fine reading and having a quiet cup of tea to himself.

"So—uh—Neville, I was wondering on a scale from one to ten, one being you're no longer mad and ten being you're as furious as a Hungarian Horntail, how mad are you at Hermione still?"

Neville glanced up at his friend for a moment, before looking back down at his book.

"Ten."

"Seriously?" Harry asked astounded. "A ten?"

"Did she tell you what she did?"

"No…"

"It warrants a ten."

"What did she do?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Neville grumbled, turning a page in his book and hiding between the pages. Harry seemed to understand that he wanted the conversation over and stood up to take a seat next to Hermione who was sitting alone also pretending to read, but shifting her eyes off the page towards Neville now and again.

Neville really did want to forgive Hermione, but at the same time he couldn't let go of the fact that she told Graces to keep away from him. What if she had listened? They were already in a bad place at the time and it wouldn't have been an insanely shocking thing for Graces to do. The thought of being without her like that made him sick. Hermione was now becoming a threat to his happiness. He knew she meant well, that she didn't know that Graces and him actually had a thing going on between them, but at the same time she shouldn't have been putting her nose in his business either. What if Graces and him hadn't been a thing and she told her he liked her? Neville flushed at the thought. It would have been mortifying if Hermione had told Graces his feelings towards her if he had kept it a secret.

Neville was distracted from his thoughts when a slew of owls came into the Great Hall delivering mail. He couldn't help but feel homesick as his gran's owl flew down delivering him a package of cauldron cakes for Halloween tomorrow, as well as a long letter telling him about her plans to meet with a few friends of hers in Diagon Alley after she visited his parents at St. Mungos. Neville wondered if Graces care package had arrived and looked up to see two boxes in front of her. Graces seemed to have opened the first one and was now onto the second smaller box which he found out contained a silver armband in the shape of a dragon. Graces smiled excitedly and looked over at Draco to see that he had a similar larger version.

Those must be the portkeys, Neville thought unable to not smile warmly at the sight of the twins placing the piece of jewelry on the arms and putting them together to see how the pair looked.

It was as Graces was gingerly putting away her dragon that Draco reached into his bag and discreetly put a small white box with a purple laced bow beside his sister's arm. It took Graces a few moments to realize it was there, but when she did she looked warily at her brother who just continued to read his paper.

Neville watched as she opened the gift suspiciously, looking over at her brother every few seconds before removing the lid. Graces stilled and touched her fingertips to her mouth before looking over at her brother and asking loud enough for even him to hear.

"Are these really mine? You're serious?"

Draco put down his paper and looked over at Graces and the box before airily waving that they were indeed hers. Graces squealed with pleasure and tackled him in what looked to be a bone crushing hug while she repeated endless thank yous and kissed probably the whole side of Draco's face, causing him to laugh heartily while pushing her away.

It appeared that whatever Draco gave Graces was a big deal, because all of Slytherin, minus Nott, was hovered over the tiny box clearly impressed with the gift. Draco however had lost his carefree look and was now pointing a demanding finger at his sister and seemed to be listing off conditions of the gift she had just received. But Graces didn't seem at all put off by any of the conditions. She just nodded along excitedly and when her brother finished telling her the long list of rules she thanked him again and kissed him chastly on the lips.

Neville grinned and read for the rest of breakfast, taking his time soaking up the distinction in certain mandrake roots across the world, before packing up to go to herbology. Today, he decided, was going to be a very lazy casual day. Graces was in a good mood, he was in a good mood, the sky above was a bit cloudy with ending October rain, and he wanted nothing more for tonight then to have a pot of hot tea, his gran's cauldron cakes, and time with Graces.

"Good morning," he greeted quietly taking his seat next to her.

"Morning."

Neville looked around to see if anyone was watching, and when the coast was clear looked over impatiently at Graces.

"What?" Graces asked with false innocence.

"You know what," Neville smiled, glad they were at the front of the class and no one could see their interactions so long as they faced forward. "What did you get?"

Graces pursed her lips trying not to smile widely and moved a tool so that it was straightened on the desk.

"Were you spying on me, Mr Longbottom?" she teased.

"Possibly," Neville shrugged, smiling softly down at the desk. "Now, are you going to tell me what Draco got you?"

Graces looked around the room, before grinning widely at Neville. "Dragon scales!" she whispered excitedly, covering her mouth as an excited giggle escaped. "Can you believe it? He gave me the dragon scales from when our, too many greats to mention, grandfather Armand Malfoy trained a dragon in service to a muggle king to gain land and wealth. He was the first of our ancestors to leave France. He spent everything he had for the trip and a Antipodean Opaleye dragon egg."

"Your ancestor helped a muggle?"

"Well, helped a muggle kill other muggles."

"That sounds about right," Neville nodded, rolling his eyes. "So these scales, what are you going to do with them?"

"Implant them into my skin," Graces smiled wickedly. "I've wanted to do it for ages, but father said no. He said "Graces, your mother and I did an incredible job of making you perfect, and I will not allow you to muddle with the perfect skin you were given." He can be so old fashioned sometimes," Graces pouted, as though her father were there now denying her request. "BUT Draco is giving me some to do it now that he is the patriarch and in charge of all the vaults! Oh wait til you see how pretty they are!"

"You're putting a dead dragon's scales in your skin," Neville said slowly, clearly finding this whole idea odd.

"It was a common practice long ago, but it just isn't practiced that much anymore," Graces pointed out, with a shrug. "Wizards and witches would defeat dragons that were running wild burning villages. They would then wear the scales under their skin as a badge of honor for all to see. Then other wizards, ones with a talent for working with magical creatures, started training them. This is what my ancestor did, and after the dragon passed they kept some scales for themselves for this practice, and entombed their dragon as family."

"And this will permanently be in your skin…"

"Yes, of course," Graces snapped. "Ugh! You're supposed to be excited about this. It's going to look amazing. Sometimes I forget you were raised by people old enough to have sired my father."

"I'm sorry," Neville blushed. "Really, I am. I, well, I was just a bit shocked by it all. You never struck me as the body modification type."

"Well I am," Graces huffed, slamming open her herbology book.

"I'm sorry," Neville repeated. "I really am excited to see what they look like on."

Graces peeked over at Neville obviously trying to decide if she wanted to stay moody with him or allow his trespasses to go on unpunished. Neville felt a great relief when her face softened and she gave a coy smile.

"About that," she started nervously. "I was hoping you would put them on for me…"

"Wh-what?"

"You have such a steady hand when it comes to pruning plants and I got a peek of the drawing of flowers in your notebook, so I was hoping you would implant the scales for me."

Neville could not even try to hide the discomfort on his face. He really didn't want to say no to Graces, especially when she was looking at him pleadingly, but at the same time he didn't want to be responsible if he messed this up.

"Why can't Draco do it?"

"Well," Graces intoned slowly. "I want it on a pretty risque area and I really would rather my brother not spend so much time there."

"Oh, but you have no reservations dancing naked with him and a whole bunch of other people," Neville deadpanned. "That makes sense."

"Careful, Longbottom," Graces sang. "Another remark like that and I may use an unforgivable on you."

"Well, aren't you a sweetheart," Neville chided, smiling over at Graces.

"So will you do it?" Graces asked, looking at Neville pressingly

"Graces, I'll just mess it up," he cautioned.

"You won't. I have faith in you."

Neville wondered if Graces understood that her faith in him was part of the reason he was so nervous to do this, but he agreed to think about it and the pair of them continued to do their work for the rest of class agreeing to meet up later that evening.

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"Are you ready?" Graces squealed excitedly, bounding into the room.

"No."

"Well, that's too bad," Graces smiled, ignoring Neville's melancholy attitude. "Cause I am."

"Are you sure you want me doing this?" Neville asked nervously, fidgeting with his wand and standing in the middle of the room. "Have you seen the mess I've made of things before this?"

"I want you to do this," Graces reassured. "I trust you. I'm comfortable with you. And you have a steady hand."

"I drop things all the time," Neville argued, feeling the first surge of panic being released into his veins as Graces took out the small box and a blue vial. "I-I can barely make it through a paper without spilling my inkwell all over it."

"I'm not a paper," Graces pointed out calmly, transfiguring four books into pillows.

"You know what I mean," Neville rasped taking a step back. "I can't do this."

Grces turned and her eyes caught Neville's. It was in that moment she saw the boy she had grown up with in these stone halls. The nervous, self-conscious, self-doubting young boy that would rather err on the side of caution and not be noticed then disappoint anyone. He had barely just began to trust himself and now with her trusting him he was frightened.

"Let's have a drink," Graces suggested, taking out a bottle of wine and a single wine glass. "Take some of the edge off."

"I-I don't think that's a good idea," Neville stuttered, his posture rigid as he took a step back.

Graces poured the deep red liquid, not caring for Neville's reply, and held out the glass.

Neville continued to deny the drink though and just shook his head. "You want me to permanently modify your body and you're offering me a drink."

"I want you to relax," Graces whispered, taking Neville by the hand and leading him down to the pillows on the ground. "Let me help you relax," she continued, moving a leg on each side of him so that Neville sat pressed between the soft pillows and her.

Graces took a long sip of wine as she straddled the nervous boy under her. She could feel Neville's eyes on her throat as she swallowed the liquid down, and tried hard to look as confident as she was acting.

"Here have a drink," she commanded, leaning into him and bringing the delicate glass to his lips.

Neville obeyed, taking a small sip of the wine though his eyes still were trained on hers.

"See? Just relax." Graces smiled, placing the wine glass down and kissing the boy underneath her allowing him to taste more of the drink on her lips. "Let me help you relax," she repeated, moving her hands to the buttons of his shirt before jerking it down his broad shoulders.

"Graces," Neville whispered, his breath hitching as she moved her hands down his bare chest. "I can't. I really can't."

"You can,"Graces stressed, leaning forward and catching his lips with her own. "I trust you, my magic trusts you, and my body trusts you. I trusted you in the greenhouse and I'm trusting you now." Graces could feel Neville's body tighten underneath hers; and she gently nuzzled her nose against his neck. "Trust me that I know what I want."

Neville still seemed hesitant, but slowly he brought his lips back up to hers and before long he was opening his mouth to her, pulling her in closer as he trailed his tongue down the column of her throat.

Graces smiled as Neville began taking over the escapade. As insecure as he was in potions, he always seemed to be comfortable in this. He knew her body. She didn't know, or understand how, but he knew it. Graces writhed with anticipation as his thumbs caressed the underside of her breasts, before trailing down to the waist of her panties demanding them to be taken off.

It was a demand she had no hesitation in following. Every fiber of her skin demanded to be caressed more by the man underneath her and the area between her legs was wet and aching to have him inside her.

"Slow down," Neville chuckled.

"I don't want to slow down," Graces panted, grinding against him as she fumbled with his belt.

"Yes you do," Neville smiled, nibbling at the base of her collarbone while he moved his fingers to the nub over her sex, causing that familiar heat to build inside her. "I'll enter you when I'm ready," he continued, moving his lips down to the peaks of her breasts.

"You feel ready," Graces challenged, referring to Neville's swollen member that was bulging under his trousers.

"He's a little too ready," Neville laughed rolling Graces over so that she was now the one underneath him.

"I don't care," Graces breathed, unable to stand the tension building in her as Neville continued teasing her with his fingers.

"Yeah?" Graces groaned as she felt Neville's tongue trace her lower lip and heard the zipper of his trousers. "Say you want me," Neville requested huskily, his throbbing need against her entrance.

"I want you," she promised, her fingers finding his hair as her lips captured his. She felt Neville's strong hands grab her by the hips and in one swift thrust they were one. He moved in her without apology: pushing forward and out creating more of that tension within her. His kisses had become erratic and Graces had no idea of where to expect to feel his tongue next, but she didn't really care. All she did care about was how much firmer each thrust was becoming and how she was trembling in the wake of them.

"You're so beautiful," Neville rasped, his mouth along her jaw line. "I don't know how I'm ever going to give you up."

Graces, not knowing what to say, just lifted her hips to Neville's moving with him to bring them closer to their peak. There was so many things that the two of them could never share together, but this was not one of them. She and Neville could have this. Pleasure and passion ignited like fire to gasoline. They could share this and have these memories with them always.

She felt her core tighten around him and with Neville's next moment her body gave way convulsing underneath him, causing Neville to spiral down into the same abyss with her.

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

As Neville finished the outline of where he was going to place each scale on Graces' outer thigh and ribs, it suddenly dawned on him what the real danger of loving a slytherin was.

"I'm never going to be able to say no to you, am I?"

"Well, I would like for you to never deny me anything I want," Graces laughed, her fourth glass of wine obviously putting her in a very good mood. "But I suspect you will from time to time. Just expect me to make it very hard for you."

It took Neville a moment to realize why Graces was laughing so hard, but he eventually caught on.

"You're such a minx," he scoffed playfully.

"Don't be sore," Graces giggled. "You are perfectly capable of doing this for me. You just needed to relax… I helped you with that," she winked.

"I don't know why you insist on it being me," Neville groaned.

"I have my reasons," Graces sighed, laying down and looking away from him. Neville watched as she seemed to go somewhere dark in her thoughts, and felt a tinge of sorrow that he continued to fight her on this. It apparently meant a lot to Graces that he be the one to do it.

"Come look at what I'm planning," he said, trying to make her happy once again. "So I was thinking we would embed some of the scales here along your outer thigh and hip. Not covering, just here and there. Give the illusion that there is more under your skin that could come out. Fading here, bold here." Graces nodded along, clearly liking the rough drawing that Neville laid out. "Now, so that it has a better flow, I was thinking we can place some sparsely along your ribs. Here, here, and here."

"Not there," Graces shot down, pointing to where Neville planned to have scales along the her side where the heart was. "It's a cowards mark to guard such a vital organ with dragon scales."

"I would call it sensible," Neville argued, with a frown. "Considering they are hard to peirce and spells rebound off them. You should want the protection."

"No, I want to appear strong. Move the scales lower."

Neville wanted to argue. He had purposely thought to put those scales where Graces could have protection. It was the one part of this whole affair he was happy about, but he didn't argue. It wasn't his body to argue over. Begrudgingly he made another outline that Graces approved of.

"You ready for the scales?" Neville asked, opening the small box and looking down at the dragon scales placed neatly within. "Wow."

"I know, aren't they beautiful?" Graces sighed, leaning up to look inside the box. "This isn't just some dead dragons scales, this is the dragon that paved the way for our family. My grandfather Armand risked everything buying this dragon as an egg. If he wouldn't have been able to train her he would have ended up with nothing… We would have been nothing. Poorer than the Weasleys… Not to mention the dragon would have probably killed him. It was more likely that she would. But she didn't. She obeyed him, and she took down armies with him. William the conqueror was nothing without my grandfather. These scales are a symbol of all that. We are a proud house, we came from humble beginnings and rose up to greatness."

"That is something special," Neville agreed, admiring the small button sized opal colored scales. The mixture of white, purples, pinks, blues, and greens shimmered as though they were living and he could only imagine how stunning they were going to look once he put them against Graces' porcelain skin. "Remind me again how this will work."

"Well, you will do one scale at a time," Graces explained. "First you place some of that salve onto my skin with that special paint brush, my skin will liquify in that area and you will put the scale on before brushing a healing potion on. If you want the scale to be somewhat covered with my skin you just have to move it deeper into the epidermal layers of my skin before allowing the healing solution on."

"This sounds incredibly painful," Neville muttered warily.

"Well, it most certainly won't be pleasant," Graces agreed, finishing off her glass of wine. "I'm ready when you are."

Neville nodded and dipped the tip of the brush in the blue liquid that would melt Graces skin. He hovered over her thigh, not able to bring himself to start. Would it hurt her a lot? What would happen if he got it on an area where a scale was not going? A whole list of questions continued to go on in his head. A list that he just couldn't ignore. Deciding that he needed to find out, he brought the end of the brush to his own palm.

"Oh! Bloody hell!" Neville hissed, the small dab on his palm searing in pain. He felt as though a fire had been ignited under his skin as the tissue bubbled like a potion in a cauldron. Quickly he reached for the healing vial and with fumbling hands he applied the healing salve, taking a relieved breath as the pain diminished.

"Well," Graces began nonplussed. "Now that you have that out of your system…"

"Do you have any idea how much this stuff hurts?" Neville asked. his eyes widened with knowledge.

"I have an idea," Graces shrugged, pointing to the bottle of wine.

"I don't think one bottle is enough," Neville said, looking down at the mutilated patch of skin on his hand.

"Let me see it," Graces commanded. "Ugh, Longbottom. Why do you insist on doing foolish Gryffindor things? I can't do anything about this. Now, you shall have a scar."

"It's the size of an ink drop," Neville shrugged. "I think I will live. However, you are planning on me doing this to a much greater area."

"The scaring won't show on me," Graces pointed out, waving her hands about. "I'll have beautiful dragon scales covering them up."

"Graces, I-"

"Longbottom, please," Graces whined. "You can do this. Just keep within the lines and position the scales correctly."

"Yeah, but what if I-"

"Then I have a scar where no one is even able to see," Graces groaned, clearly having lost her patience. "It won't even matter. Honestly, I would just tell Draco and he would give me another scale to cover it up. You can't do anything that is irreparable, Longbottom. I swear. But the point is that I want you to do this for me. I could have asked Pansy or anyone else, and I didn't. I'm asking you."

Neville sat there considering what Graces just said. He honestly still didn't want to do this. The thought of messing up and failing her made him sick. But apparently not being the one to do it was failing her. Graces seemed to find some sort of meaning in him being the one to do this, and after hearing what the scales meant to her he understood that this continued denying of her wish was probably very disrespectful, and yet she was trying to be patient with him about the situation, because she knew it made him uncomfortable.

She's not being that patient.

She is by Graces' standards.

"Okay," Neville relented, dipping the brush into the blue vial. "Are you ready?" Graces nodded, and Neville slowly began to trace the outline of the first scale he was going to put down, making sure to take his time and not rush.

"Gods and goddesses that does hurt," Graces grunted.

"I warned you," Neville murmured, concentrating on moving a scale perfectly over the skin.

"Will you distract me?" Graces panted, closing her eyes tightly.

Neville finished the scale he was working on, before taking a moment to think of something to distract Graces with.

"What was in the bigger package this morning?" he asked, moving onto another patch of skin.

"A satin robe," Graces panted. "It's blue and - Merde! - sorry," Graces blushed, embarrassed for her very unladylike outburst. "Uh-where was I? Oh, yes. It's blue and white."

"Your family crest colors," Neville remembered aloud. "And it's for the festival?"

"Yep," Graces confirmed tightly.

"So you're not naked the whole time?"

"You really need to get over that, Longbottom," Graces grunted, her breath becoming labored.

Neville glanced up from his work for a moment, but decided to hold his tongue.

"Who sent you the robe?"

Graces stopped her labored breath, and Neville frowned as her body went rigid under his hand.

"My-uh- aunt…"

"Oh…"

There was a long silence after that. Neville concentrated on what he was doing and put away the thought of Graces' aunt, knowing that dwelling on such realities would only hurt his relationship with Graces.

"Longbottom, I-"

"This is going to look really amazing," Neville interrupted. "I'm actually not doing a bad job at all. It's exactly what I was thinking. A few more here and we can put the five on your ribs and be done."

Graces looked over at him sadly for a moment before nodding and laying back down.

See, only brings pain, Neville thought sadly.

"So you know," Graces began quietly. "I won't care should you ever seek revenge and kill her."

Neville paused for a moment before looking up. "You wouldn't mind if I killed your aunt. Your flesh and blood?"

"My mother loves her sister," Graces sighed. "I think she sees her as all she has left in many ways. She remembers playing around the house, sharing clothes, all that sisterly love… but she's… mad… cruel… I-I would want you to have that closure."

Neville felt a surge of adrenaline rush through him to the point where he was almost trembling.

"Longbottom?"

"I-I just can't talk about this," Neville rasped.

"Oh," Graces whispered, going quiet.

"It's not because of you," Neville said quietly. "I just don't want to be the kind of man that sits and discusses killing someone because of his need for revenge. I-I'm ashamed that I even think about it. I'm...I'm ashamed I like to think about it…"

"There's nothing wrong with wanting revenge on someone who has wronged you like my aunt," Graces argued, moving her hand over his.

"And if the opportunity ever arises I will not hesitate to take it," Neville stated evenly. "But I am not going to think on my hatred for hours and hours in the day. It will just become a poison within me. Leaving no room for all the good things that come into my life. Like you," Neville pointed out smiling. "If I drank that hate daily I would have never have looked at you. And I'm so glad I'm with you right now, Graces."

"Really?" Graces asked, her voice broken with emotion.

"Really," Neville promised leaning in and brushing his lips against hers', and releasing a longing breath as Graces added more pressure to the kiss.

"I'm glad to be here with you right now too," she murmured lying back down, leaving Neville to go back to his work as he smiled the rest of the night to himself, unknowing that Graces was smiling to herself as well.

Hope you all enjoyed! Next chapter is the festival! Don't forget to follow/review!