Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Graces Malfoy and Thomas Higgs who are my own. I do not claim ownership of the characters or the settings within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story.

Author's notes: As usual a huge thank you to my beta Denarii for editing this chapter! Especially because I didn't get it to him over the weekend and he was really busy today with work. Betas really are the unsung heroes of fanfic. Also, a bit thank you to my best friend Aleah for reading this over! Despite her crazy work schedule as well!

Special thanks to Celine, bageltiger, bridget237, Anna, Blue Luver5000, spannieren, Phoenix, Manoirmalfoys, SuperCuteTomomi and noone297!

Chapter 47

"Do you remember the first time we ever drank together?" Graces asked as Neville bit the top off another chocolate cauldron and lifted the shell filled with firewhisky to her lips to drink.

"No, I completely forgot," Neville deadpanned, giving Graces a patronizing look. "Please, remind me. Was it in the greenhouse?"

"Don't tease me," Graces smiled breathlessly, sipping the liquid and twisting her mouth as it burned down her throat. "I'm drunk, had muggle surgery, had my heart stop and have a mild concussion. I'm allowed to be a bit forgetful."

"I guess," Neville chuckled.

"So?"

"So what?" Neville asked patiently.

"Do you remember? Do you remember all of it?"

Neville frowned at the question. "What do you mean all if it?"

"Well, we were drinking," Graces blushed. "We were really drunk. Are parts a bit fuzzy for you? Or are things missing?"

Neville mouthed 'oh' as he realized what Graces was getting at and placed the box of chocolates down before sitting on the bed with her.

"I remember every single detail," he replied, holding Graces eyes with his. "Every detail."

Graces blushed at his intensity and looked down for a moment before facing him again.

"I-I can't stop thinking of that night," she admitted quietly. "I keep having it pop into my thoughts." Graces seemed distant for a moment, as though that night was once again intruding on her. "Do you think that things would have been different if-if I hadn't been drinking or if I hadn't offered you a drink?" she asked nervously.

"Yes."

Neville watched as Graces' face seemed to crumble at the definiteness of his answer, but he remained quiet. He wondered what Graces was trying to get at with her line of questioning and he had a feeling he was going to learn more of the workings of her mind if he remained silent and allowed her to continue on her own.

"In what way do you think things would have been different?" she asked, staring up at him timidly.

"Well," Neville sighed. "You would have never been that open with me for one. You would have never joked around with me and I never would have dared kiss you."

"Oh," Graces breathed disappointed.

"Not that I wouldn't have wanted to," Neville smiled kindly. "I had a bit of a thing for you before the greenhouse. It's just that, well, the fire whiskey definitely helped. I could never have just kissed you like that without it."

"You did?" Graces asked, a hint of excitement sparkling in her silver eyes.

"Yeah, I did," Neville chuckled. "I was growing very fascinated by you."

"Because I'm so pretty?" Graces teased.

Neville smiled at her humor and wondered if he should tell Graces all the reasons he had been thinking of her so long ago.

"Because you were smart and I had this strong feeling there was so much more to you than what you allowed the world to see," Neville murmured quietly. "I really don't know what it was, but I couldn't stop thinking of you. That night when I went to the greenhouse it was because I couldn't stop thinking of you."

"You were mad at me that day," Graces nodded. "About the paper. You were upset that I wrote it without you…"

"I was, but I definitely was not mad at the end of the night," Neville winked, moving his thumb in circles on the top of her hand. Neville grinned as she blushed and wondered when he became the type of guy that winked and had a pretty girl becoming bashful at what he said.

"You've never felt a moment of regret about what we did?" Graces whispered.

"No, I haven't," Neville promised. "I would go back and do everything exactly the same."

Graces looked up at him and seemed to be searching for any hint that what he was saying wasn't true. Neville knew she wouldn't find anything though. He loved her. He had never loved anyone like he loved her and that feeling was worth everything in his mind. If given the chance he would have done everything exactly the same that night. He would have sat down and drank with her. He would have leaned in and kissed her. He would have embarrassed himself all over again and said deflowered everything.

"I don't regret anything either," Graces divulged quietly, breaking the long silence. "Not anymore, at least. I'm glad you came in that night. I'm glad we…" Graces let her words dwindle off and closed her eyes fro the strength to continue with her next sentence. "I'm glad you're here now."

"I'm glad too," Neville agreed, leaning in and kissing her cheek softly. "I'm also very glad that I came up with the idea to get you a bit pissed today."

Graces giggled at Neville's humor and leaned back contently as he continued to hold her hand.

"Have you eaten anything today?" Neville asked, deciding that if Graces was giggling she may be well enough to tuck in some dinner.

"No, my throat hurts something awful," Graces sighed.

"You may feel better if you ate," Neville urged. "Maybe something small like some broth?"

"It really hurts," Graces protested. "I can barely swallow."

"You have no problems swallowing that firewhisky," Neville pointed out, giving Graces a stern look.

"That's worth it," Graces shrugged. "I can't feel my nose right now. Firewhisky is helpful, broth will just make me sick. My insides… they feel odd. I'm in a lot of pain. I don't want to eat anything."

Neville hummed out his displeasure and was about to insist she at least try some broth when Dr. Harris came into the room.

"I need to change the dressing on your sutures," he said apologetically. Moving to the other side of the bed and pulling out supplies he would need. "Also, you should be aware your brother is becoming very upset you have yet to invite him back into the room." Dr. Harris paused when he turned back to the couple and stared at Neville for a long while. "Mr. Longbottom," he began, a curt edge to his voice. "You have a bit of blood on your lips and jaw."

Neville blushed and quickly shot his hand up to his face. Dr. Harris didn't ease up on his glare though.

"I suggest you wash up," he quipped, nodding his head towards the loo.

Neville nodded embarrassedly and went to do just that. He all of the sudden was very happy Dr. Harris had not brought Draco into the room as he looked at the blood stained lip mark on his jawline. He imagined that if Graces' brother had seen him like this the doctor would be tending to two patients for the next few days.

"I believe I said she needed rest, relaxation and no excitement," Dr. Harris reminded, angrily turning on the tap to fill a bowl with hot water.

"I-I'm sorry, I—"

"Do none of you understand what is going on?" he hissed. "She is awake and talking, but she is not out of the woods. Nowhere near. That girl out there has suffered. She has suffered physically and I know she is suffering emotionally. And the last thing she needs is some young boy pawing at her unable to keep his hormones in check!"

"I did not paw at her," Neville said defensively. "I-I just kissed her. It wasn't anything like what you're thinking. I just kissed her."

"I think it's best you left for the night," Dr. Harris advised sourly. "I need to change Miss Malfoy's dressings and then she needs to sleep."

"What? No. No, please don't make me leave. Please," Neville begged. "I'll—"

"It really should only be family in the room," Dr. Harris broke in. "Draco is beside himself out there. Poor kid is a wreck worrying over his sister and you're in there—"

"I was just trying to make her feel better," Neville swore. "I care about her too. I do. I love her. I would never do anything that would hurt her. I love her."

Dr. Harris seemed to be trying to gather himself. Neville could tell he was angry and he had a feeling that despite how respected he was in the muggle world, he was having a difficult time not having that same respect here. Neville knew he was angry, he had this annoyed look to him similar to his head of house when they were acting up, but he also in odd ways reminded him of Lupin.

"Neville," he said patiently, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "I want the truth. What is going on with you and her? Her brother seems to be under the impression that she greatly dislikes you and that you are infatuated with her."

Neville blushed and looked down at his shoes. He really didn't know how to explain his relationship with Graces. It was long and complicated.

"Have-have you ever read that muggle book," he began quietly. "Romeo and Juliet?"

"Yes," Dr. Harris nodded, "It's a classic."

"Well, it's like that," Neville explained. "We… well, at least I, love her, and we aren't supposed to be together."

"Because your families hate each other?"

"Her aunt tortured my parents into insanity," Neville murmured. "Our families are on opposite sides of this war. Her father tried to kill me last year too. We should never have happened, but we did."

"War?" Dr. Harris repeated. "Was… is she hurt because of war?"

"What have they told you?" Neville frowned.

"Nothing."

"I see." Neville murmured. "I-I can't explain it all, but I'll try to explain some of it." Dr. Harris nodded and waited for Neville to arrange his thoughts. "There's this dark wizard," Neville whispered quietly as though he were afraid of being heard. "And he's… he's been trying to conquer the wizarding world. He wants to purify our blood lines, kill all the muggleborn and subjugate non-magical people and magical creatures. He's a madman: cruel, evil, sadistic. He's been trying to get into power. Graces' father was one of his loyal subjects, but he was arrested last year. Since his arrest He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has put the twins under his thumb."

"And he's the one who hurt her?"

Neville nodded defeatedly and picked at a callous on his hand. Dr. Harris continued to stand there in silence mulling over what he had just learned. He had a million questions now. He felt like his head could burst from everything he had seen and heard in the past hours. Draco had been extremely tight lipped about everything, in some ways it was nice to have someone around that didn't mind talking to him.

"I can bring you a book tomorrow," Neville offered. "You can read it to better understand what this war is about."

"I'd appreciate that," Dr. Harris nodded.

"Are they treating you alright?" Neville asked.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose."

Neville was unsure of what to make of that statement. He was about to ask the doctor what he meant, but before he could the man was picking up the bowl and heading back to Graces. Neville followed him out as he set up his tools by the bed.

"You should go," Graces muttered tightly. "Please tell Draco to come in."

"I'd rather stay," Neville ventured reaching for Graces' hand.

"You may not though," Graces retorted curtly moving her arm away. "You have seen that I am well and I now want you to leave."

"No need to put on a show on my behalf," Dr. Harris sang, examining the length of some bandages.

Graces turned and glared at Neville.

"There was a bloody kiss mark on my jaw," Neville asserted. "The jig was up."

"Don't worry Juliet I shall not tell Tybalt of your Romeo," Dr. Harris continued under his breath.

Graces turned up her nose and continued with her touch-me-not attitude. When Neville again moved to take her hand she once again took it away.

"Please send my brother in," she ordered stiffly.

"Graces—"

"I want Draco," Graces bit out angrily. "I want my brother and-and I think it's best you leave."

Dr. Harris frowned at Graces' harsh remarks and looked over to Neville sympathetically.

"She's self-conscious about her stitches," he offered despite himself.

"I'm self-conscious about the total mutilation of my abdomen!" Graces screamed. "You-you mangled me!" Graces accused.

"Graces, I'm sure that isn't true," Neville comforted, ignoring Graces' temper and kissing her hand.

"Just go away," Graces simpered. "I-I want Draco. It's not fair for him to be away from me like this anyways."

Neville sighed and kissed her cheek despite her angry words.

"I will come back tomorrow," he promised. "Do you want me to bring anything?" Graces shook her head, but Neville continued on. "Maybe some more firewhisky for the pain? I could get my hands on something else if you wanted though. Maybe some wine?"

"Did you give her alcohol?" Dr. Harris broke in, now moving close to Graces' mouth and smelling her breath. "You should not be having alcohol when you are on antibiotics," Dr. Harris scolded looking to both teenagers. "They don't mix well."

"I feel fine," Graces shrugged.

"You feel fine now," Dr. Harris pointed out. "You may not feel fine later. You may be facing a very difficult night, Miss Malfoy: stomach ache, throwing up and a very bad headache. Not to mention I am going to have to keep even more of an eye on your heart rate. One of the antibiotics you are on when mixed with alcohol can cause your heart to race. This may have done more harm than good."

"Me head hurt well before the alcohol. It hurts less now," Graces muttered, clearly not caring about what Dr. Harris was saying. "I think you just want me in pain."

"I do not want you in pain," Dr. Harris groaned. "I want you well. The antibiotics are important. They are what's keeping the infection away. The alcohol isn't going to stop them from working, but if you are throwing up they won't be in your system and if the alcohol mixed with one of your antibiotics can make your heart rate go up then we could be looking at more problems. Your heart is still weak."

"If-if it doesn't cause any of that. If we are careful can she have it?" Neville asked, not wanting Graces to be in pain, but also not wanting to go against the muggle's medical advice.

Dr. Harris seemed hesitant, but nodded in agreement.

"We will see how your heart does tonight and I will take you off the bactrim, I guess it's not needed since you have insisted I remove the catheter. That would have been the only antibiotic that would have affected your heart."

"Catheter?" Neville asked. "What's a—"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself about," Graces broke in curtly, staring daggers at the physician before turning back to Neville. "Please send my brother in. I think it's best you left. Thomas and Octavian will be here soon."

"Alright," Neville sighed. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Longbottom, you can't come back," Graces sighed. "It's just not—"

"I'll be back."

"No one will allow you back in."

"I will figure something out," Neville promised. "I'll be back."

Graces nodded and faced forward at her feet as he walked away to the door. She seemed to be vibrating all over as Dr. Harris moved the sheet up and examined her stomach. Neville wondered what it was she was so terrified of. Dr. Harris seemed to be especially kind as he examined her and it didn't look like he was hurting her. His hand had disappeared under the sheet and he seemed to be asking how the pressure of his hand felt on her stomach, but still Graces seemed frightened.

"Malfoy," Neville began, opening the door, but not leaving the room. "She's asking for—"

Neville didn't get the chance to finish his statement before Draco was striding inside the room shoving him away. Neville gritted his teeth and moved to leave the room, but before he took a step out Draco called him into the room.

"Longbottom, just come here," Draco ordered, standing over his sister's bed. Graces seemed to be a bit confused and looked hesitantly at Neville before nodding for him to come. "Dr. Harris, earlier you asked me how our medical care is different from muggles," Draco began politely. "Would you still like for me to explain?"

Dr. Harris took his hand out from under the sheets and looked over at Draco hesitantly.

"I would. Yes."

"Excellent," Draco smiled, before bringing his arm back and punching Neville hard right in the nose.

"Jesus Christ!" Dr. Harris exclaimed rushing from around the bed to Neville's side. "You broke his nose!"

"Draco!" Graces shrieked, gasping as Neville's blood pooled out into his hands.

"Now, Dr. Harris as you can see Longbottom's nose is broken," Draco lectured, pacing around the floor and tapping his wand on his palm.

"'Malfoy, you rotten bastard!" Neville groaned, yelping as Dr. Harris moved his nose to better examine it.

"Sorry, Longbottom, I have no idea what you are saying. Anyways moving on. The first thing you should know Dr. Harris is that we need to get the patient to hold still. Petrificus totalus," Draco cast lazily, causing Neville to go as stiff as a board.

"Draco, you stop this right this second!" Graces exclaimed, sitting up in the bed despite Dr. Harris yelling at her to lie down.

"Hold on," Draco motioned. "I'm almost finished, now we just need to fix the nose. Episkey," Draco cast, flourishing his wand happily.

Graces and Dr. Harris both flinched at the loud crunch that came with Neville's nose being reset. Neville groaned for a few seconds before getting up angrily.

"Damn, I thought the petrification would hold through the fix," Draco muttered, frowning at his wand. "I'm losing my touch."

"Draco! You can't just do things like that!" Graces cried.

"It's just Longbottom," Draco shrugged, still frowning at his wand while Dr. Harris continued to poke at Neville's nose in astonishment.

"Malfoy, I swear to the gods I'm going to—"

"Careful, Longbottom," Draco sang, waltzing over to Graces' Quidditch bag and taking out a blue jar. "If you're nasty to me I won't allow you to use some bruising salve for your eyes."

"I don't want a bloody bruising salve," Neville roared, wiping the blood from under his nose and gripping around his robes for his wand which was at once disarmed from him once he took it out.

"Go ahead, Longbottom," Draco dared. "Get your wand."

Neville stood in the middle of the room his chest pumping up and down from his angry breathes. Neville moved to reach for his wand, but before he bent down to retrieve it his eyes met with Graces' and she shook her head.

"Come on, Longbottom," Draco goated. "Where's your Gryffindor courage?"

"That is enough," Dr. Harris snapped walking over and taking the salve aggressively from Draco. As angry as he was trying to seem at the situation there was this giddiness to him as he rubbed the salve under Neville's eyes and watched the bruising completely disappear.

"Remarkable," the physician breathed.

"Would you like to see what happens when we tear some skin?" Draco asked excitedly, raising his wand.

"Draco don't you dare!" Graces shouted.

"Why are you crying?" Draco frowned. "It's just Longbottom. He's the reason our father is in jail. He's the one who—"

"Your sister was almost beaten to death," Dr. Harris said coldly, shielding Neville with his own body to prevent Draco from hurting him further. "I am sure she doesn't want to watch any brutality at the moment. Especially when such brutality mimics what I imagine she herself had to endure."

Draco looked over at his sister, but the blonde seemed beyond consultation at the moment.

"Longbottom, in that first dresser I have some handkerchiefs," Graces rasped. "You're welcome to use one and get cleaned up before you go."

Neville nodded and moved to the dresser.

"I'm sure Longbottom has his own," Draco broke in.

"Draco," Graces breathed, closing her eyes. "Not now."

Draco gritted his teeth, but said nothing more as Neville awkwardly took one of Graces' laced handkerchiefs out and wiped away the blood.

"I think it's best you leave now, Longbottom," Graces continued, refusing to meet Neville's eyes. "Thank you for the firewhiskey, but—"

"Firewhiskey?" Draco broke in.

"For the pain," Dr. Harris explained. "Mr. Longbottom figured out a loophole."

Neville for a brief moment wondered if he saw a flash of gratitude in Draco's eyes, but as quickly as it came it was replaced with the blonde's typical look of hatred.

"As I was saying," Graces choked. "I want you to leave."

"Right," Neville nodded, turning towards the door. Graces' handkerchief clutched tightly in his palm. He didn't want to leave. He couldn't imagine the next few days without seeing her, knowing she was in pain. "I'll-I'll see you tomorrow."

"No you won't," Draco protested coldly.

"Malfoy," Neville began turning around and facing the blonde. "The agreement was I wouldn't tell, but make no mistake I will stand outside the Slytherin common room and demand to be allowed in until you all fold. I really doubt you want me drawing any attention, so face the fact now that you will be seeing a lot of me until she's well."

"She doesn't want you here she—"

"I can make her feel better," Neville stressed. " I can figure out more things to give her to help with the pain. I already have an idea for her throat. I get that you hate me. I get that she finds me annoying, but I can help. Let me help."

Draco twisted his mouth and seemed to biting down some nasty remark. Neville held his breath as he ran a hand through his hair and turned to his sister.

"Do you want his help?" Draco asked, turning to his sister.

Graces' lip trembled as she wrestled with that question. Neville knew she was going to say no. She would always side with Draco and Draco didn't want him there. He had made that very clear. Still he knew she wanted to say yes. Neville knew she wanted him there.

"It's not an option," Neville spat the moment Graces' shook her head. "I am coming back tomorrow," he vowed slamming the door.

Neville had maybe taken two steps away from the room when Draco came barreling out the door and slamming him to the wall. A couple witches sitting elegantly at a table in an old oil painting cried out in outrage as their frame tipped sideways on the wall from the force.

"What are you playing at, Longbottom?" Draco gritted, pulling Neville forward only to push him back into the wall harder.

"Wh-what? Nothing!"

"You're a bad liar," Draco growled. Neville stilled and diverted his eyes as Draco bared his teeth and flared his nostrils wildly. He had read somewhere once that you shouldn't look an enraged animal in the eye and he had a feeling the same rule applied here. "I want to know what you think is going to happen."

"I just want to help," Neville repeated shakily.

"Yeah, well, I don't want you thinking that helping my sister will get you into her knickers!" Draco snarled, sending a bit of spittle on Neville's cheek.

"I-I'm not trying to—"

"Save it, Longbottom. Do you think you're the first one to want my sister? You think I don't notice the way you and other guys covet her?" Don't look him in the eye. Don't look him in the eye. "My sister is not for you. She has better prospects, better opportunities, a better future. She would never want you. Don't think that because you showed up here in her hour of need it will change things between you two. Graces is my responsibility and I would never allow her to throw away her life on a waste of space like you. Not that I think she would ever even entertain the thought, but if you think you can play hero and get her to start looking at you, mark my words. I would kill you long before I allowed it."

"I just want to help her," Neville insisted.

"I know what you want and helping her isn't the end of it."

"Merlin's beard, Malfoy," Neville breathed, daring to look up at the boy close to killing him. "What kind of a man do you think I am?" Draco didn't say a word, just continued to stare at Neville's brown eyes challenging. "Yeah, I do fancy your sister," Neville admitted, ignoring the way Draco's hands tightened on his collarbone. "But I'm not trying to help her because I want anything from her. Do you honestly think that I'm trying to ease her pain so that I can be invited into her bed?" Neville felt some of the tension on his collarbone ease. "I just want to help her."

"She doesn't want your help."

"She doesn't want to go against you," Neville stressed. "She would rather suffer than say she disagrees. She had no problem accepting my help when you were on the other end of that door. She was grateful." Draco seemed to falter in his anger and Neville hurriedly continued before the blonde lashed out. "I want to help her. I want to take away her pain, not because I fancy her, but because what happened to her isn't right."

"I can take care of my sister," Draco rasped.

"And the first step to doing that is to allow me to help," Neville pleaded. "She will not accept my help without your blessing. Malfoy, just let me help her."

Draco seemed to be wrestling with himself over the idea. Neville tried not to notice how much it reminded him of Graces. The only thing missing in their expressions was the way Graces bit her lip, though it appeared Draco was biting the inside of his cheek.

"Fine," Draco relented, giving Neville a final push into the wall before releasing his hold on him. "Come tomorrow, but don't you dare think this changes anything between us, Longbottom. Or that what you are doing is so noble. If my father was still here none of this would be happening to her."

Neville held his tongue from arguing that Lucius Malfoy did all of this himself and just nodded noncommittally as he cautiously moved away from the wall. He still had a funny shiver running down his spine from Draco's proximity. The blonde had yet to remove his eyes from him and his muscles were tensed as though he were ready to pounce on him.

"She needs something for her back," Draco mentioned with an ordering tone. "The skin is all torn up and burned."

"Burned?" Neville frowned.

"The muggle seems to think at one point she tried to run away and was then dragged against the ground. It's not her whole back, but a good portion on the right side. It looks like it hurts, but we can't put any kind of magical salve on it. The muggle he-he put alcohol on to clean it. He keeps cleaning it and it's drying the skin out. It's hurting her more, but he's insistent that it remains clean."

"I'll figure something out," Neville nodded.

There was a long silence following Draco's demand and Neville fidgeted in place waiting for more. It was odd how comfortable he was with Graces and how uncomfortable he was with Draco. He felt like he knew the boy standing in front of him. Knew him oddly well, but at the same time he didn't. Or wasn't supposed to. One of those.

"Why are you so infatuated with my sister?"

Neville tried not to show how uncomfortable that question made him and tightened his lips and pretending to sink in the ground.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Do-do you always know why you like someone?"

"I don't fancy anyone," Draco droned. "But I'm sure if I did I would know why."

"She's smart," Neville offered, deciding to stay far away from anything intimate or anything that would get him punched.

"Granger is smart."

"Yeah, well, I used to fancy her too," Neville shrugged.

Draco made some noise that indicated his disgust before shoving Neville to leave. Which the Gryffindor did gladly. Neville realized he had a lot of work to do for the night if he was going to be bringing things to help Graces tomorrow. He didn't have a clue as to what he could use for the burns without being able to make a potion, so he planned to just go straight to the library and hopefully find something in time to order what he needed.

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

"You need sleep," Dr. Harris droned, leaning back in the chair as his eyes became impossibly heavy. "Sleep has been proven to help heal the body faster."

"I'm not tired."

"I don't believe that," Dr. Harris yawned. "You have to be exhausted. Also, natural sleep will take away your discomfort."

Graces didn't answer, just continued to lay in her bed staring into the bassinet beside her. Dr. Harris looked over at the sleeping child and wished the girl in front of him would do the same.

"He's cute," Dr. Harris smiled, sitting up to brush the child's cheek.

"Don't touch him," Graces hissed, straining herself as though she wanted to slap his hand away. "Don't."

Dr. Harris awkwardly took his hand away and sat back in the chair.

"I wouldn't hurt him," he said offended.

The physician could tell the girl didn't believe him, but she didn't say anything as to why she didn't. He sat in the chair glaring at her wanting an explanation. Her brother and Thomas were a sleep in the beds around her and he noticed any time he got up to check her IV, take her temperature or just go to the loo she would look over to them. As though she suspected she would need to scream for their help.

"Why are you frightened of me?"

"I'm not," Graces clipped. "I'm a witch. Two words and you would be dead. I'm not frightened of you."

Dr. Harris raised an eyebrow, but decided not to argue.

"Why do you dislike me? I have done nothing but try to help you."

"Because your kind kills my kind," Graces whispered, her eyes trained on the sleeping babe. "I'm not afraid of you, your kind is afraid of us and it is that fear that has driven us into hiding."

"You hide because we are afraid of you," Dr. Harris said skeptically. "It sounds like it's the other way around."

"You fear us so you kill us," Graces said simply. "We're not safe in your world and you outnumber us so we hide."

"That sounds like we are all a bit afraid of one another."

Graces looked over at him for a moment, the black and blue part of her face hidden in darkness while the less beaten side flickered in the light of the fire. Dr. Harris stared at the silver eye hatefully glaring at him and wondered what it was that made her and the others in the room have so much contempt for him.

"I can read your mind," Graces divulged, a bored tone to her voice as though Dr. Harris should have known she had this ability. "I would think the answer is obvious."

"And what is the answer," Dr. Harris asked patiently, ignoring the voice in his head to drop the subject so that she would gain some rest.

"You burned us at the stakes," Graces said thickly. "You drowned us in lakes. You-you threw magical babies into fireplaces. Your religion says we corrupt the soul. That we-we are less. Evil." she choked. "It encouraged you to kill us. We are in hiding because of you," Graces added softly.

"Hiding?" Dr. Harris frowned.

Graces looked at him curiously for a few moments. Dr. Harris felt like he was back in his residency and his attendee was sizing him up. Her silver eyes seemed to be trying to evaluate his worthiness, as if this information may be too much for him to understand and she didn't want to waste her time explaining it.

"There's this song that we sing during a festival. A duet of sorts," she explained offhandedly. "It's about the time before the separation of the magical world from yours. The song is about living in such dark times among you muggles and clinging to faith. Faith that the Gods would watch over us so long as we practiced the old ways. We found strength in our magic, in ourselves as a people. Not allowing the fears of men to touch our hearts and make us fear ourselves. Which wasn't always an easy task."

"You hated us," Graces whispered angrily. "Your church proclaimed us as evil and scapegoated us for all the wicked worldly problems. It was becoming harder and harder to practice magic. We were losing one another. All of us were in hiding, so that people like you would not find out who we were as we walked among you."

"Can you imagine what that kind of life was like? Living in a world that hated you. That told you everything you were was evil. It's lonely living a lie," Graces added in a hushed tone.

"If you're in hiding you can't find others," Graces continued. "We were slowly dying out. Between you killing us and you isolating us we couldn't come up from the ground. We would meet when we could. Usually in fields on special holidays. It was for many of us the only interaction we could have with others who were magical, the only time to meet and learn knew things."

Dr. Harris watched as Graces jaw clenched.

"Our lives were in shadows back then. We were in the shadow of your church, creeping along the walls hoping to not be seen. In the shadows of our own homes, praying that no one would notice anything peculiar and begin whispering around the community of what we were. There was light, but it was so far away from us. It was more an idea then it was a real concept. Freedom, openness those were things many of us never even hoped to achieve. While we would look at each other and see nothing but beauty in what we could achieve, you would look at us and see evil."

"We were abominations," Graces rasped. "Do you have any idea what you muggles do to "abominations"?

"I have an idea," Dr. Harris nodded.

"If we didn't figure out a way to separate ourselves from you worst things would have been done to us than what has been done to me," Graces growled lowly.

"I'm sorry that happened," Dr. Harris murmured quietly, as the fire cracked behind him. "None of that was right. We have long since said what we did to people back then was wrong. No one would—"

"You all have said it was wrong because we have done an incredibly amount of work to discredit all evidence that the people back then were right," Graces scoffed. "If your world found out tomorrow that it had indeed been witches burned and that sorcery was real there is a very good chance you would not all believe what was done was wrong. The only reason you are all unanimous in the belief that what you did was barbaric and a sin against humanity is because you think magic isn't real and those people killed were like you."

"Maybe," Dr. Harris acknowledged quietly. "But I wouldn't be one of those people. I don't think it's right for harm to come to you because of your abilities."

"I'm not scared of you, Graces," Dr. Harris said gently as the girl before him stared at him. "I wish you weren't afraid of me."

Graces' face lost some of it's harshness for a brief moment, before the girl fixed herself back to her cold demeanor and declared that she was tired and going to sleep. Dr. Harris nodded and watched as the blonde pretended to drift off. Dr. Harris sat in the chair for a few moments watching her face before his eyes weighed down to heavy to keep open.

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Graces knew Snape was standing over her. She had heard the door and seen his silhouette just before she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. She had thought he would come in and ensure she was still living and leave, but the potions master seemed to continue looming over her bed. She could feel his black eyes on her and tried her best to continue her slow, steady breathing. She heard him touching her plastic bag that the doctor set up and tried to remain calm when his fingers brushed against the needle that was in her arm before lifting up the sheet gently to examine the tube in the side of her chest. After a moment she felt the thin sheet glide back down to cover her and once again waited for her professor to leave, but the faint smell of potions lingered and she knew he was still there.

It wasn't until she felt his fingers on her cheek that she opened her eyes and stared up through the darkness at him. Snape slowly brought his hand down, a look of subtle surprise spreading over his features, but he didn't offer any sort of apologies and his look of surprise didn't last long. His black eyes just blankly looked down on her waiting for her to say something. She didn't, though. She was not about to offer Snape the satisfaction of speaking first. The two of them just looked at each other waiting as the silence rang around them.

"I was just checking on you," Snape disclosed, breaking the silence. Graces nodded her head once, but continued to stare at the man accusingly. "I have an assortments of potions for you once your days are up. Those lacerations on your stomach will not be permanent, I've been working on a potion that will—"

"Don't," Graces hissed. "Don't you dare stand there and pretend that you care."

Snape scowled and politely folded his hands in front of him awaiting for her to continue.

"You-you did nothing," Graces croaked. "Nothing. You just-just left me there. You—"

"I told you not to come," Snape cut in calmly. "I told you. I tried to get you to listen to reason. Do not blame me for what you brought upon yourself."

"I would not have felt the need to come if I could believe that you would have protected Thomas!" Graces shrieked. "But you don't care to protect any of us!"

Snape continued to stand calmly beside the bed, despite the rest of the room beginning to wake and Octavian wailing in his bassinet.

"You are a coward of a man," Graces spat. "You just allowed Thomas' family to be killed! You didn't try to warn him of what was to come. You see him everyday and didn't have the compassion to tell him what was coming. Or even talk to him after! You don't care about anyone or anything. You knew those people being killed. They were your students, you even wrote some of them letters of recommendation after they graduated and you did nothing to preserve their lives. Because you don't care about life! There is nothing you deem sacred. You allowed children to die," Graces shuddered, tears falling from her eyes. "Children."

"You're supposed to be the grown up," Graces choked. "You're supposed to take care of us. Where were you all the times we needed you? Where were you when I needed you? How can you care so little? You allow the innocent to die."

There was a long silence that came with Graces last statement. The whole room aside from Octavian seemed to be holding their breath at the proclamation, waiting for the potions master to reply. When he didn't Graces' seemed to grow more frustrated.

"You better hope there are no gods," Graces continued in a deadly whisper. "Because there's a special place in hell for you, Severus Snape. A place where I hope you are meant to suffer for all the evil you have allowed."

Graces could feel her whole body vibrating from her rage. She felt as though she were going to come apart, she was shaking so badly. Every part of her felt as though fire were raging through her veins and she couldn't seem to calm her breathing as she puffed each breath angrily. She hated the man in front of her and she hated that she in many ways owed him her life.

"My, my, Miss Malfoy, if this is your opinion of me then I am left to wonder about what your opinion is of your father," Snape tutted simply, snapping his fingers and silencing Octavian.

"My father?" Graces asked, a small furrow coming between her brows.

"Yes, your father," Snape confirmed, tilting his head slightly as though he was confused as to why Graces could not make this connection. "While I may stand by and allow evil, your father actually participates." Snape smiled as Graces' face seemed to become distressed and ill at ease. "Oh, come, come, surely you know who and what your father is?" Snape drawled.

"My father is nothing like you!"

"You're right, he is nothing like me," Snape laughed. "Would you like me to list how we are different?" Snape didn't give Graces the chance to answer before he began spouting off reasons. "I do not enjoy torturing others. I've only done it as a means to an end. I don't use brutality and fear as my only method of getting things done for our Lord. And I've never killed a child," Snape added a glint coming to his eyes. "Your father has. Pureblooded and mudblood alike."

"You're lying," Graces growled. "My father would never do such a thing. He believes that children are meant to be protected."

"I'm sorry, wasn't it less than a year ago when your father was going to kill students in the Ministry?" Snape asked with false innocence. "Would you agree that students are still children, Miss Malfoy? You must if you insist that I should be protecting you all."

Snape did not linger to see Graces' reaction to her image of her father being shattered, he turned towards the door, his robes billowing out behind him.

"One more thing," Snape said turning and facing all in the room. "The whole Higgs clan was supposed to be killed. Thomas, Octavian and the Squib included. I was the one that argued we should refrain from killing off a whole pureblood line. I convinced the Dark Lord to spare Thomas and then went further to convince him to spare one other male child and another adult woman to help raise the infant."

"The lives of a few would not redeem you for the lives of many," Dr. Harris whispered, looking over at Snape from his chair. "It certainly doesn't redeem you for the torture of a child."

"I do not want, nor do I seek redemption," Snape said dispassionately. "I am well aware that the life of one can forever taint a soul beyond it."

So sorry this chapter was late as well! I recently got engaged! Yay me and my real life happily ever after, right? Anyways, I am going to try and get things done on time, but this month may have some more late chapters.