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 and my friend Aleah for reading it over!
Special thanks to bridget237, Blue Luver5000, haemaleo88, noone297, bekkivobekki, GTH, superscarface83, Mackayo, Manoirmalfoys, spannieren, ladymoonscar, mzfeebs, Chandler Bing, Phoenix, 000janedoe000, Tessmai, Guest, Kanna and pokegirl1005.
Okay, guys I am soo soo sorry for how late this is. My fiancé and I went and hiked he canyon for a week and things have just been so busy in my real life I haven't been able to update. BUT everything has settled down now, so updates should go back to being regular. I know this was an awful wait guys thanks for being so patient. Again, always feel free to PM me if you want to know progress on when a chapter will be updated etc. I don't mind at all.
Chapter 48
"Do you want some more wine?"
"No."
Draco nodded and continued to watch his sister as she stared up from her bed. Her eyes reflected a tortured look as she laid there absent from her body. She had been silent after Snape left and then started crying in the middle of the night. Dr. Harris had thought at first it was the pain, but Graces had shook her head and just asked to be left alone.
"Snape said someone will be in today to ensure we didn't use any magical means to help you," Draco informed quietly.
"Who?" Graces asked tiredly.
"I think it's going to be a healer. Probably a healer and a lackey. It should all be fine," Draco added unsure if he was saying it to convince Graces or himself. Graces nodded uncaringly and continued on with her distance.
"Would you like me to read to you?" Draco offered, unable to take the silence.
"No."
"Would you like me to firecall Thomas to return with Octavian?"
"No."
"Graces," Draco whispered urgently, holding his hands tight to keep them from vibrating. "You're scaring me."
Graces closed her eyes and her face twisted as she tried to swallow a sob. After a moment she took a shaking breath and turned her head to face him.
"What kind of man is our father?" Graces rasped, her eyes red from lack of sleep and tears.
"What kind of a question is that?" Draco frowned, trying to ignore the way his heart seemed to be jumping. "He's our father."
"Yes, but—" Graces took a shuddering breath and looked back up to the ceiling "Is he a good man? Is he—"
"He's the man that took care of us our whole lives," Draco said angrily. "He's the man that bought you your first broom, filled your closet with every dress imaginable, he's the man that fixed your cuts when you fell down and let you sleep in his bed when you were scared. He's the man that sired and raised you, the man that would never turn his back on you." Draco didn't know why he was so angry, why he was feeling so defensive. He had thought their father had failed them as well, he had thought— She's not asking if he failed. She's asking if he's a good man, if she should be ashamed that he's her father. "If you are wondering if our father is a good man, you are wondering if I'm a good man," Draco said darkly, shaking uncontrollably.
"Snape said he enjoyed hurting people, Draco. He said—"
"I think we can both agree that I myself have a touch of sadism," Draco broke in, standing up and pacing in front of her bed. "I've derived pleasure in humiliating others, inflicting pain, watching Potter and his lackeys suffer. Hell, I've been torturing Longbottom for yea—"
"It's not the same Draco," Graces breathed. "It's not. You're not a cruel, callous man. You're not heartless," Graces choked. "You don't really want to hurt people," Graces whispered looking up at him with shimmering eyes. "You just wanted father to see himself in you. I don't think you really enjoy causing pain. I think you just want to establish some sort of dominance. Bully, yes, but—but this... this is something different."
"Cruel, callous, heartless?" Draco repeated, feeling as though he had stupefied. "Those are the words you're going to use to describe our father. Our father. What's wrong with you? When has our father ever been—"
"You didn't see what Snape showed me," Graces sputtered. "You didn't see. He—he didn't hide anything. I saw in his head and he was pushing forward images of—of our father h—hurting people. Really hurting them, Draco. And—and he—he liked it. He seemed to enjoy watching them become more f—frightened and—"
"Stop!" Draco demanded, slamming his hand against the pillar of her bed. "You will not speak about our father this way. Do you hear me? I will not allow it. You are not going to sit there taking a fucking half—blood's meddling words to heart. Do you understand me?"
"Snape said he killed children," Graces proceeded desperately. "How can you just ignore what he said? I—I can't pretend I didn't hear that. I can't."
"You knew what happened last year!" Draco cast out, throwing up his hands. "You knew. You were told that—"
"I didn't process it," Graces pleaded. "I didn't really think about it. Draco, if our father does that, if he enjoys killing the defenseless how could you—"
"BECAUSE HE'S OUR FATHER!" Draco shouted, causing the dungeon torches to flicker. "He's our father! I don't give a shit what he's done to people I don't know or care about. I care about what he's done for me. And in case it has escaped your pretty, little head, that he—may I remind you—blessed you with, you and I have never wanted for anything! We have never in our lives had to struggle until he was taken away from us. We've been protected, loved, cherished and given all the worldly things we could have ever wanted! I love my father! He could kill every last fucking mudblood, pureblood, woman and child and I wouldn't care! He's my father!"
"I love our father too!" Graces trembled tearfully.
Draco felt himself harden at his sister's tears. Why should any of this matter to her? Their father had hurt people that didn't matter to them. He had done nothing but try to secure a world where they would continue to be the elite. All the things he had done had benefited them, so what if he enjoyed hurting people. He was not hurting people that they cared about. He felt a rift growing between him and Graces, something he never in a million years thought could occur, but it was there. He felt like they were dividing, but he didn't understand why.
"I feel like I don't know you anymore." Draco didn't mean to say it aloud. If anything he never wanted that sentence to escape his lips and go out into the open air. He wanted to contain and ignore it, pretend it wasn't happening and that everything between him and Graces was fine. But it was out there now whether he wanted it to be or not. He didn't feel close to her anymore. Maybe it was his fault for being so absent, for always being locked up in that damn room working on his damn mission, but he didn't feel like it was just him.
"How can you say that?" Graces asked thickly. "I'm your sister."
"I don't know," Draco whispered, beginning to feel a lump in his throat. "I sometimes look over at you and I don't have an inkling about what's in your head. It's like there is something else to you that I'm not apart of. Like you've become separate from me."
"Separate?" Graces sputtered. "That doesn't even make sense. We are separate people."
"It's… it's a feeling. I don't know how to explain it." Graces' opened her mouth to argue, but a gentle knock at the door stopped the conversation.
"Don't answer that," Graces ordered.
"It could be that healer to check."
"He would have banged on the door," Graces pointed out tightly. "We're talking. Do not answer that door.
Draco knew Graces was right, but he opened the door anyways. He didn't want to really discuss this, not his father, not them. He wanted everything to just go away. He couldn't handle more on his plate than what was already there.
"Graham," Draco frowned. "Is Longbottom back? I told you yesterday he would be that—"
"May I have a word?"
Draco did not really know Graham Montague. He knew that he was a good Quidditch player, came from a nice family, was respectful outside the pitch, preferred listening to talking, was rough around the edges and always had an air of pride to him in what ever he did. But he didn't really know him. He just knew what to expect of him, which is why seeing Graham Montague standing in front of him ghost—white, clammy—skinned with posture better suited to Longbottom caused a prickle between his shoulder blades.
"Is everything okay? You look—"
"Malfoy, I just need a word," Graham insisted, his dark eyes still maintaining the sternness his body at the moment seemed to lack.
"Graces, I'll be right outside the door," Draco promised, not moving his silver eyes from Graham's determined, dark ones.
Graces let out a frustrated shriek as Draco walked out of the room and closed the door. Frustration tightened her chest to the point where she felt like she had to scream her lungs out. The only thing stopping her from turning over and doing just that into her pillow was the pain. Everything was such a mess. It felt like her whole life had just been splattered across a wall and she could do nothing to clean it off and preserve it the way it was. Even as the hot, frustrated tears began pouring down her cheeks she tried to get a hold of herself.
"I had a bad father," Dr. Harris said quietly, standing up and taking a soft handkerchief from Graces' drawer and dabbing her eyes. Graces sniffed and looked up at the chestnut haired man, but couldn't bring any words forth. "He was never around. He never came to my games, tucked me in at night, talked to me about anything that a man should talk to his son about. Nothing," Dr. Harris added hauntedly.
Graces stayed still as he took a seat and seemed to be lost in thought. There was something about the way he was sitting on her bed that made her think of Neville. Dr. Harris sat there, arms resting on his knees, slouched over, wearing his pain on his sleeve for her to see. That kind of vulnerability would never be shown in her house so openly. It was the kind of thing she could expect from Neville, but not from just anyone. It was odd seeing it from a grown man.
"He was a doctor too," Harris continued. "He was always at the hospital, day and night. If I had by some stroke of luck gained time with him it was always cut short for something. When he died I had nothing to say about him. He was just this figure in my life. I didn't know him. But at his funeral there were hundreds of people. All with a million stories of what a great man he was."
"You must have been proud," Graces said quietly, looking away embarrassed to be seeing such raw emotion.
"Proud?" Dr. Harris repeated, treating the word as a foreign concept. "Proud. No. I wasn't proud. People kept telling me that I should be proud, but no, I wasn't proud. He didn't raise me. My mother raised me. My mother and her second husband raised me. It's hard to be proud of being someone's son if they were never really your father. There's more to being a father than spending a night with a woman."
"All around me at the funeral people were so distressed over my father's death and I—" Dr. Harris paused as though he weren't sure if he was supposed to say the next thing aloud "—I felt very little." Graces watched as he looked up from his hands and stared at the night stand displaying pictures of her family. His eyes stopping on one of her father's proud smirk as he looked over at Graces and Draco cheering at the world cup. "My father was a good man, but he was a bad father," he whispered. "Yours is a good father, but a bad man. It may be wrong, but… I would have rather my father been like yours."
"You don't know my father," Graces shook.
"I didn't know my own either," Harris pointed out, sitting up and seeming to put away some of his dark thoughts. "But it sounds like up until now you have never questioned who your father was or whether he loved and cared for you." Graces remained silent at the doctor's words, determined to not allow them to sink in. "No one is perfect and maybe your father is the devil, but he's not to you. For you he has always been a good dad and it sounds like he has done a lot to shield you from the evil within him."
"He isn't doing a good job of shielding me now, is he?" Graces whispered stubbornly, closing her mouth to muffle a sob.
Dr. Harris sat quietly and allowed Graces her moment of despair. At her age he had never really had the tears to cry over his father. He was a man that he couldn't long for because he didn't know him. In reality by the time he was as old as Graces it wasn't so much that he wanted his father to be his father, it was that he wanted the acknowledgment. He wanted to do well, be a great doctor so his father would want to be around him. His idea of a relationship with the man was being something great that he could throw it in his father's face that he had no part in it. It didn't seem like Graces and Draco had had a father like that. It appeared that their father had been, up until recently, exceptionally involved in their lives.
"Where are your parents?" he asked after a moment.
"My father," Graces started slowly, taking a deep breath "is in Azkaban for crimes against the ministry. My mother is at home."
"Why is she not here with you?"
"She has no idea what is happening," Graces sniffed, wiping her eyes on her shoulder.
"Draco didn't want her doing something foolish."
"Foolish?"
Graces pressed her lips together and nodded her head. "She would get herself killed," she murmured tightly. "My mother is very protective. If she knew about this… Nothing would stop her from seeking revenge."
"So you're just never going to tell her?" Dr. Harris frowned. "She's your mother. She should know what—"
"I will tell her when she can see I am whole," Graces cut in, something dark coming onto her features. "I will have my pounds of flesh for this. But I'm not going to be careless. I'll tell my mother when she can be in an appropriate mindset. It would be better to wait and plan out. My mother will not have the presence of mind to do either of those things if she saw me like this."
"And there is no authority you could go to?" Dr. Harris asked despondently, already knowing the answer before Graces shook her head. "Graces," Dr. Harris said cautiously, standing up and moving over to her desk. "I want to give you something."
"What?"
"It's... my number. Snape promised I would be taken home and when I am home I want you to call me. I want to help you, or at least get you in contact with people who could help you," Dr. Harris added scribbling down the last few digits and then realizing that Snape may have lied about his returning home. "Or if for some reason you can't reach me," he said slowly taking a deep breath, "this second number I'm going to write down is also a woman that I know would want to help you."
Dr. Harris swallowed hard at the thought. He had been so preoccupied with trying to help Graces, that it never really had occurred to him that he may not live past this. He may die and with him the knowledge that there were children being mistreated. He looked back to the blonde whose eyes were locked on the small piece of parchment he had written on.
"I don't understand. How will numbers on paper help me get in contact with you?"
"Do you know what a telephone is?" Dr. Harris asked a feeling of dread beginning to pool in his stomach. Graces shook her head. "It's this device where you can talk to people without being in the same room as them. It doesn't matter how far away they are, you can speak to them."
"Like firecalling?"
"Uh—yeah… sure, only no fire. You just call. You press these numbers on the phone, it rings and someone answers." Dr. Harris was sure Graces didn't want him to take note of the fact she seemed impressed by this sort of device, but despite herself she seemed to have a stunned approving look. "The point is," he began slowly "I want you to use a phone and call these numbers. I want you to get help. I, or this woman will find you and take you away. You can be safe."
Graces stared at the numbers for a while. She had the look of a scared animal wanting to accept food, but not come close enough to take it.
"You can't help me," she whispered turning her head away.
"That is not true," Dr. Harris pleaded. "Graces, I will help you. I will figure something out. I can take you away from here. I'll steal you away if I have to. You and your brother can stay with me. We will fig—"
"In a few days you won't remember who I am," Graces whispered hoarsely. "Snape will make you forget every detail. Even if I showed up on your doorstep you wouldn't know who I was."
Dr. Harris took a step back at Graces statement as a feeling of violation began to take weight on him. He would forget. He had no doubt that taking his memories was a possibility and that he could do nothing to defend himself against it. Not important. Other things need to be focused on, he reminded himself angrily.
"Then call the other number," he forced out, pushing away his other thoughts. "Call the other number and tell the woman who answers that you are in trouble."
"Why?" Graces sighed rolling her eyes.
"Because that woman's life's work is to help people. To help children. Graces, if you call her she will tear this earth apart to find you and make you safe."
"I can't call her," Graces murmured detached.
"Graces..."
"Just stop talking," Graces whispered, closing her eyes tightly. "Just stop. If I could have run away with my brother don't you think we would have? You don't understand anything."
"Then help me understand."
"I can't."
"Why? Why can't you talk to me so I can help you? Why can't you trust me so I can make you better? What have I done? You act as though you are frightened of me. I am not the one who is going to hurt you. Let me help you. I'm a doctor, damn it."
"My gods, if muggles could be sorted," Graces growled angrily.
Dr. Harris clenched his fists together tightly in frustration and bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from growling out his vexation. He was on the brink of just letting it all loose and screaming at the blonde in front of him that she needed to allow him to help her, but before he could Draco came back in.
"I need to speak with my sister in private," Draco demanded, not leaving the doorway of the room. Dr. Harris looked over to Graces for a moment, before nodding his head and leaving. Draco waited until he heard the soft click of the door shutting before continuing forward into the room. "Graham wants to speak with you," he started quietly taking a seat down on the bed beside her and gently taking her hand. "And I want you to listen to what he has to say."
There was something about the way Draco was speaking to her. There was an intensity in his eyes and she felt as though every word he spoke had deliberate meaning. The air around them had thickened and Graces tried to be still as a chill crept up her spine.
"Draco?"
"Graces, I just want you to listen to him and think about what he says," Draco reinforced, holding her hand tighter.
"What does he have to say?"
Draco paused for a moment in thought. His jaw tightened and he didn't seem to want to meet her eye.
"I think I will let Graham be the one to divulge that to you privately."
"You're not staying?" Graces asked, a hint of confusion in her voice.
"No. It's best you two talked alone." There was a pregnant silence for a few moments: Graces staring at Draco and him continuing to study the floor. "I'm really sorry for all this," Draco whispered. "You'll never know how sorry I am. Maybe it's not you. The reason why I feel separate, detached. Maybe it's just all me. Maybe I'm detaching."
"No, Draco, it's not you. I have—" Graces swallowed a lump in her throat and tried to will at the words: I do have a secret. I've been seeing someone. I've been seeing Longbottom. But they wouldn't come. She couldn't get the sentence out past her teeth. "It's not all you."
"Please, listen to Graham," Draco cut in tightly standing up. "I already approve of what he is offering, but it's your decision."
Graces scowled at the vague statement and called out to Draco to not leave, but the blond didn't even look at her as he shut the door behind him leaving her alone. The air around her grew thick in the empty room. She knew it was only Graham who was about to enter, but for some reason her skin pricked and became sallow; her heart began thumping in a way that made her wonder if it was pumping something thicker than blood, and her mouth became dry. She tried to remain calm as she heard the shuffle outside the door. She could hear the soft inaudible whispers of her brother and Graham talking before silence took over and the door knob turned.
"Hi."
Graham frowned slightly at Graces nervous greeting, but said nothing to sooth her nervousness. He silently locked the door behind him and placed a silencing charm around the room.
"What—why are you doing that?" Graces asked, suddenly frightened of the boy standing in the room with her.
"I'm a private person and I enjoy my privacy."
"I'm not comfortable with that," Graces insisted, trying in vain to not appear frightened though her whole body was trembling. "I want that silencing charm off and I do not want the door locked."
Graham raised an eyebrow at Graces demands but made no move to undo either charm.
"Do you think I will hurt you?"
"Montague, you unlock that door right this instant," Graces ordered, her voice now bordering hysteric.
Graham's jaw line tightened and his lips pursed for a moment, but he turned and sharply flipped the lock.
"I would prefer for us to stay on a first name basis," Graham requested, a cold politeness to his voice.
"And I would prefer for that silencing charm to be taken off as well," Graces clipped.
"Graces," Graham started with deliberate patience, "I don't know what it is you are thinking, but I am not here to hurt you. I am here to… talk to you."
"Talk to me," Graces repeated skeptically. "Why do you need to talk to me alone with a silencing charm?"
Graham didn't answer her question right away, instead he placed his wand down on Pansy's night stand and walked away from it into the room. It was then that Graces took in her peer's appearance: the sad, sullen eyes and pale complexion. He looked similar to Draco. Graham, who didn't share any of her brother's features, now reminded her of her brother exactly.
"May I sit?" Graham asked, gesturing to the chair beside her and waiting for her to nod her head before taking his seat. The older Slytherin sat there for a while staring at her injuries one by one. His eyes studied the streaks of pink left in her hair from blood, her swollen shut eye, the bruises that wrapped around her chin, arms, neck and collar until his eyes were settled on her middle hidden beneath the blankets. "Are you comfortable?" Graham asked, looking back up at her. "Do you need another pillow or would you like more wood in the fire?"
"I'm fine."
"Good," Graham nodded, trailing back into his thoughts and sitting quietly his eyes slowly going back to her stomach. Graces fidgeted under the stare, but didn't say anything. If Graham wanted to talk to her he would have to be the one to speak.
"I—" Graham paused for a moment, and touched his finger to his lips. "Do you remember your surgery?"
"Does it matter?"
Graham blew out a sigh and looked up at the ceiling.
"I was there," he informed, ignoring Graces' rudeness. "I heard you scream. You sounded as though you were being tortured. I barged in the room and you were opened up. The "doctor" had these silver tools in you and I could see your insides…" Graham looked up and met Graces eyes for a moment. "I held you down until you passed out. I was there when your heart stopped and breathing had to be done for you."
"I see," Graces breathed, a feeling of numbness coming over her.
Graham nodded and seemed to be struggling with continuing on with the conversation. Graces really didn't want it to continue. She wished that Graham would just leave. Leave and leave the memories with him, so she could be sure no one else would ever know.
"I have overthrown my father as Patriarch." Graces' head popped up at Grahams declaration and she felt winded as Graham hunched over his arms resting on his legs as his head bowed down.
"Overthrown?" Graces repeated dazed. "You took the title by force? You overthrew your father?"
"He didn't give me much choice," Graham murmured tightly, still looking down. "Neutrality will no longer be tolerated and he was going to allow it in the family. I had no choice."
"But still," Graces whispered. "He's your father. To overthrow him is to dishonor—"
"My sister is dead," Graham cut in coldly, no longer looking down. "Her children, my nephews, were slaughtered. I have other sisters. I refuse to let them and their children die in the same manner. I did what I had to do."
"But to overthrow your father," Graces continued awestruck. "You could have talked to him, given him more time to grieve and let go of what happened. You took his position." Graham said nothing to all this, just waited blankly for Graces to continue. "Your father is a good man," Graces stated, her voice stronger than it had been in days. "A good, proud man. He will never be able to forgive you for this."
"I don't need his forgiveness," Graham retorted tiredly. "I need my family to be safe."
"How did you do it?" Graces asked, studying Graham.
"I convinced the rest of the family that he was ill—suited for the task, that Arella's death had impacted his judgment, that he was weak and we needed someone strong," Graham added quietly. Graces offered no words of comfort as Graham's face showed a tinge of shame. In her opinion he should be ashamed. "I know what you are thinking, but I didn't have a choice. Someone had to do what was necessary."
"You should have just dueled him, killed him rather than dishonoring him like that. You made him seem weak and simple. Your father is reasonable," Graces spat. "You could have—"
"We may not have had the time to wait for him to wake up and see reason," Graham growled, his temper flaring. "I did what I had to do. Do you think I wanted to overthrow my father!? Do you think I wanted this responsibility!?"
"Then why did you take it?" Graces bit out, clenching her jaw to keep from screaming.
"Are you not listening?" Graham hissed, standing to his feet. "Because I need to protect my family."
"Your sisters are married," Graces pointed out. "Their lives depend on their new families' decisions. Not yours."
Graham paused for a moment, his temper slowly steaming out of him. Graces frowned as the older boy's distress seemed to grow on his face.
"I didn't have a choice," Graham repeated, his hand heavily moving to his left sleeve and sliding the cloth up to reveal the dark mark. "I had to keep them safe. I was offered a deal for their safety."
"Oh, Graham," Graces breathed, unable to stop the tears coming down her face at the site of his damnation.
"The deal was I would overthrow my father, declare loyalty and take the mark," Graham stated solemnly. "In return I would gain my family's safety, including my sisters that have married and their children. You know the Dark Lord and deals. He offers and you accept. There are no other options."
"What did you have to do for that mark?" Graces asked tightly, her silver eyes staying on Graham's haunted ones.
"Nothing I wouldn't do again," Graham stated evenly, sitting back down, his eyes bearing down into Graces' silver ones. "There was another part of my agreement," Graham continued slowly. "It was agreed that my wife would not be expected, no matter who she was, to take the mark. Nor would she be punished for her own family's infractions," he emphasized giving Graces a pointed look.
"Graces," Graham said gently, taking her hand and ignoring the frightened look she had. "Love will come. I can't say that I love you now, but I know it would come. I'm not an affectionate man. I'm actually quite uncomfortable with just this," Graham admitted, gesturing to his hand holding Graces'. "I don't even know if I am a good man anymore. I've had to do things that I never plan on discussing with you. But I can promise that you will be taken care of and that my affections will eventually be given to you."
Graces didn't know what to say, she sat there gaping at Graham, her mind going in a million different directions.
"Why?" she finally blurted out, her whole body trembling.
"Reasons," Graham shrugged. "I wouldn't mind sharing a bed with you. You're good with kids, properly raised, the family would all approve of you and considering what I just did I need all the approval I can get. And you are one of a handful of people that don't make me want to jump off the astronomy tower," he added with a small smile.
"You yell at me all the time."
"Quidditch," Graham said, as though that were explanation enough.
"Be serious here, Graham," Graces hissed. "You're—"
"I am proposing an offer of marriage," Graham finished. "And I am being serious."
"Then tell me the real reasons why you are offering me this," Graces demanded. "Because there has to be other reasons. You could not possibly be doing this just—just to help me or because you wish to have a pretty wife that you can bear living with! You are not in any way a romantic, I doubt you would have a problem marrying a woman you could not stand!"
Graham scowled at Graces last statement, but after a few moments leaned down so they were level.
"Okay," he nodded. "This is the way I see it, Graces. You and your brother are in a very grave situation. There is little to nothing I can do for Draco. I now know what he has to do and if we are being honest I don't see him being able to complete it." Graham ignored Graces strangled sob and continued on. "That being said," Graham continued, trying to be gentle but failing, "our union would be exceptionally beneficial to you as well as me."
"And what exactly is in it for you?" Graces sniffed. "I am failing to see your benefit."
"You have an exceptional dowry," Graham explained. "A dowry that alone would place my family as second only to yours in wealth. That kind of money brings a great deal of power and like I said I need to show my family that turning over the role of patriarch to me was a wise decision."
"My dowry," Graces scoffed, looking up at the ceiling unsure if she wanted to cry, laugh or scream. "I really shouldn't be surprised. So I marry you, gain my safety and freedom from the mark and that's it? My brother will pay my dowry and I just have to say I do?"
Graham hesitated for a moment and seemed to be debating whether he should say anything at all.
"Well, you would be my wife," he started a tinge of nervousness to his voice. "And I will need an heir. I will expect you to perform your duties as my wife. And I would ask that you not return to Hogwarts for your final year."
"You would want me to just drop out?" Graces asked shrilly. "Not even finish my education?"
"Graces," Graham pleaded, getting down on his knees and holding her hand. "I will want you to be my wife. I'm not a very open guy with my feelings, but this is going to be hard on me. Everything is going to wear on me. My responsibilities, my mark. I'm going to need you. Not just to act as my wife and raise an heir and manage the family and house. I will personally need you."
Graces held her breath and Graham continued to stay on the ground kneeling and holding her hand.
"I'm scared," he murmured quietly. "I want to have someone in my life that I can say that to. Your dowry is not the only reason I want you to marry me. Maybe we don't love each other now, but we like each other and that's a start in my book. I more than tolerate you. I like having you on the team. I like bantering with you and I liked how good you were with my nephew. How..." Graham seemed to be searching for a word. "What you're doing for Thomas, what you did for the funeral. I would be very proud to have you, Graces. I understand I am asking for some sacrifice on your part, but there is a great deal on mine as well. Be with me and you will be safe and your arm can remain bare. "
Graces couldn't bring herself to say anything. Graham seemed to be offering her everything and yet she couldn't open her mouth to accept. She knew this was the smart choice. Not only would it make her safe, but it would allow Draco room to breathe, taking the heavy burden of her life off his shoulders and yet she had no words to voice. Thomas, the agreement was for Thomas too. I am responsible for him.
"And Thomas?" she managed to ask, sure that this was what was keeping her from accepting.
"He will be taken care of," Graham vowed. "I will take up the burden of being responsible for his tresspasses, of which I am sure there will be none. The Dark Lord seemed to have a feeling when I requested this that it was you I was requesting this for. He still agreed, I'm sure we can maintain Thomas' safety."
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Neville stared at the scene before him. Graham on one knee holding Graces' hand while she gazed at him in disbelief unable to find words.
"Am I interrupting something?" he asked hollowly, unable to move.
Graces looked up startled and he knew from the look in her eyes that he had indeed walked in on something he was not meant to see.
"You are," Graham declared coldly.
"Right," Neville nodded, looking over to Graces and beginning to feel as though the world under him was shattering.. "I—uh—right… I-I'll just leave."
"No!" "Good." the two Slytherins replied simultaneously. Graham turned back towards Graces at her response. The older boy clearly was at a loss as to why she would say no to Neville leaving.
"I..." Neville wondered if Graces had meant to ask him to stay. The blonde looked horrified with herself and sat with her mouth gaped open looking at Graham."I need to think about this," she whispered tightly. "I don't feel ready and..." Graces sighed and closed her eyes. "I just need some space to think."
"To think," Graham repeated, looking over at Neville for a moment before returning his gaze to her.
"Yes, to think," Graces whispered, holding Graham's gaze.
"I understand," Graham nodded, standing up awkwardly from the ground. Neville moved out of the doorway so that the burlier boy could walk out and he could ask Graces what was going on, but before the Slytherin left he leaned down and planted an awkward peck on Graces' cheek. Without thinking Neville looked down at his feet and suddenly was wishing he was anywhere but there in that room or that he could walk forward, turn Graham around and sock him in the face.
Oh yeah, that would be a great idea wouldn't it? Let's punch the guy the brawny, herculean Quidditch captain. That's just a swell idea. Then I can be in the bed next to Graces. Wouldn't we be a great match.
Neville looked up from the ground when he noticed Graham's black shoes in his view and clutched the potted plant he was holding tightly as the older boy stood looming over him pompously. Neville found himself moving his shoulders back and trying to recreate the posture Graces always insisted on for Thomas.
"Are these going to make her more comfortable?" Graham asked gesturing to all the supplies. Neville nodded unsurely and waited for Graham to say more. "And this?" Graham asked, picking up a razor. "This looks like it would hurt her, not help her. There are sharp blades in this."
"It's a razor. Muggles use it to shave off the hair on their face," Neville said patiently. "I brought it for Dr. Harris. Dean uses it. I also brought along with a few other things. Fresh pants and trousers, a toothbrush and toothpaste. That's what muggles use to clean their teeth," Neville added. "Hermione's parents send us those every Christmas. They're not that bad. The paste has a pleasant taste, you can't swallow it, you brush it on your teeth to get them clean then spit it out, but it leaves them feeling really refreshed. Sometimes I just use it cause I like it. Anyways, I had some to spare so I figured Dr. Harris would appreciate it."
"Thoughtful," Graham clipped. "You're a considerate guy, eh Longbottom?" Neville didn't answer, he had a feeling that Graham was about to corner him into a trap. "Just not considerate enough to knock I suppose." Neville blushed, but didn't make a comment.
It wasn't until the Slytherin left did Neville realize he had been holding his breath. He all of the sudden felt peculiarly light-headed and hurried over to a desk to place all the things down. Neville stood leaning over the desk for a few moments, trying to get his brain to start working again.
"What-what did I just walk in on?" he asked turning around and looking at Graces.
"Nothing," Graces lied, looking down at her hands. "Nothing."
"It didn't look like nothing," Neville protested moving over to her by the bed. "It looked like... it looked like he was... You know you're only sixteen, right?" Neville cast out. "Sixteen. You know that right?"
"You can't even have your apparition license yet," Neville fumbled, ignoring Graces' quizzical frown. "Or do magic outside of Hogwarts. I mean, you're still a child."
Graces' quizzical frown had now molded into a full on scowl, but the blonde remained coldly silent as Neville continued to babble on.
"And Montague may be seventeen, but that isn't much of a difference is it? I mean none of us should be making any huge, life-changing decisions at this age."
"Aren't you a patriarch?" Graces pointed out frostily.
"Yes… but I'm not thinking about getting married," Neville added quickly. "I mean not that I don't want to one day and—"
"Longbottom, stop talking."
"Don't tell me to stop talking," Neville cried out. "He— it looked like he was proposing. Proposing! First he's kissing you on the quidditch pitch, then he's ogling you on Halloween. 'Oh and Malfoy, nice scales. The placement is flattering on you,'" Neville mimicked, dropping his voice down a few octaves and sounding more like Hagrid than Graham. "And now he's proposing marriage!"
"Are you done?" Graces asked, her eyebrow arched judgmentally. "Because my throat is still hurting. I feel like a dragon must after blowing out fire, so if you are done I would appreciate your solution to this problem."
The two students glared at one another for a moment, before Neville stomped over to the desk to retrieve the tea he had made for Graces throat.
"I would appreciate if you could also pour me some more wine," Graces added tiredly. "I think I could drink the whole carafe right now."
"Drink this tea first," Neville instructed irritatedly, walking over and bringing the cup to her lips. "Are you going to talk to me about this at all?"
"I wasn't planning to," Graces answered, taking another long sip of the tea before continuing. "This seems like something that is private between Graham and I."
"So he was proposing!?" Neville accused.
"I never said he wasn't."
"Right," Neville murmured bitterly, staring down into the teacup and trying to prevent himself from becoming more emotional than he already was. "You told him you were going to think about it," he whispered quietly, ashamed that his voice had become so tight.
"I am going to think about it," Graces informed tiredly, closing her eyes. "There is a lot you do not know and marrying Graham would have a lot of benefits for me."
"Do you love him?" Neville asked, putting the teacup down so he would not have to hear his hands trembling.
"Don't be stupid," Graces scoffed. "This has nothing to do with romantic feelings."
"So you're just going to marry him for convenience," Neville cried exasperatedly.
"I have not even made that decision," Graces growled. "I am just thinking about his proposal. That doesn't mean I will accept it."
"Do you want to accept it?"
"I'm not talking about this with you," Graces hissed.
"Just answer the question!" Neville exclaimed, a hint of pleading to his words. "Do you want to accept it?!"
"This is not appropriate for me to be discussing with you. I won't."
"I'm not asking you to discuss it with me," Neville countered. "I just want to know if you want to accept his offer." Graces bit her lips together and shook her head, refusing to answer, but Neville continued on demanding that she answer his question.
"No! Alright? Are you happy now? No, I don't want to accept it! I don't want to marry him!" Graces shouted. "There! Now, can we drop this?"
"No we cannot just drop this!" Neville groaned. "You are thinking about accepting a marriage proposal and we are tog—involved. We're involved," Neville repeated quietly, praying desperately Graces' could at least understand that.
The blonde stared at him for a few moments before taking a shuddering breath and closing her eyes. When Graces reopened them she looked at him sadly.
"I don't know what you want me to say," Graces rasped helplessly. "What do you want me to say? You know you and I have no future together, right?" Graces asked quietly, moving her hand and taking his."This is temporary, Longbottom. We have an end date. We are not ever going to be more than what we are right now. It's not in the stars. I've made that clear, haven't I? You're under no delusions about us, right?"
Neville looked at Graces' hand trying to intertwine with his. She had two fingers that were obviously broken and bruising going up. Gently he took her hand in his and sat down on the bed, kissing the top of her skin gently and swallowing a sob as he did so.
"I just want more time," he whispered. "I just want to be happy a bit longer."
"We are only prolonging the inevitable," Graces whispered, more to herself than to Neville.. "I probably will marry Graham. Maybe not now, but eventually. It makes sense for us to marry one another. It's a good match."
"So you will say yes to marrying Graham," Neville said hollowly, his heart beginning to crack.
"I don't know," Graces rasped, tears now beginning to stream out. "I know I'm scared, though. I've never been more scared than I am now. You know I-I can't even get up to go to the loo," Graces confessed, her cheeks turning brightly as more tears came. "P-Pansy has to help me. Do you have any idea how humiliating that is? Marrying Graham may give me more protection, it can ensure that this will never happen to me again."
"How?" Neville asked.
"I can't say," Graces sniffed, holding his hand tighter.
"Okay," Neville nodded, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to her hand. "Okay."
"Longbottom, I—"
"How about we get that wine for you, huh?" Neville broke in, standing up and moving over to the goblet. "Maybe I'll have a glass with you. Then after you've had a glass I will start treating that rug burn on you."
"I thought you wanted to talk about this?" Graces hiccuped.
"I did too," Neville rasped. "But no, I don't now. You do what is best for you and I will enjoy the time I have with you now. If Graham can ensure this never happens to you again I'll even send you a wedding gift."
"Longbottom, it's not that I don't want time with you," Graces sobbed. "It has nothing to do with you. I—"
Neville didn't allow Graces to say another word before he silenced her lips with his. He knew it was an odd thing to do, kiss the love of your life after she told you she was going to think of another man's offer of marriage, but he didn't care. She had not answered him yet, and he wasn't about to lose precious time with her because he was crying about how unfair it all was. They were temporary, he wanted more time, but as Graces said it may not be in the cards. So he kissed her. Only stopping when he realized Graces was crying in his mouth.
"I'm sorry. I—"
"Don't be sorry," Neville comforted, running a gently hand on the curve of her neck.
Graces nodded her head sadly and took a shuddering breath.
"I want more time too," she whimpered.
"Graces," Neville smiled gently, picking up the glass of wine. "I vote we enjoy the time we have and not think of anything else."
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"She said she will think about it?" Draco hissed angrily.
"It's a big decision, Draco," Graham sighed. "You really shouldn't be so cross about this."
"I am not cross," Draco snapped. "I am confused. Extremely confused. It was a good offer!" Graham shrugged and rested his hands back down on the sofa. "Were you romantic?" Draco asked, desperately. "Like saying pretty things and getting on a knee, were you romantic?"
Graham frowned at the question and then moved his shoulders irritatedly before answering that was not his style, but he had at one point got on a knee.
"Well, maybe you should make it your style," Draco quipped irritatedly. "I think what I am offering is rather generous and—"
"Draco," Graham broke in. "I am well aware of all you are offering. A heavy dowry and your family's fortune and businesses if you should die. You're offering your family's whole legacy. Not to mention if you don't die, which I prefer, you would be in a grand circle that I as your brother in law will benefit from. I'm not an idiot. I want this too, but the truth is I have a great amount of respect for your sister and I don't plan on pretending to be someone I am not to manipulate her into thinking she should marry me. This is who I am. It would not being doing her any favors to pretend that I am different. It would only leave her disappointed and lonely in the end."
"You have respect for her," Draco repeated darkly. "Respect. You know who else was respected? Arella Higgs." Graham tensed at the mention of his sister's name, but Draco continued on. "Your sister was a respected witch and where did that get her?"
"Malfoy," Graham growled warningly.
"I'm just saying," Draco gritted. "Respect is not what my sister needs. She needs safety."
"If you feel that way arrange her marriage," Graham dared.
"She would never forgive me," Draco huffed.
"Maybe not," Graham acknowledged quietly. "But she would be alive."
"When will she give you an answer?" Draco asked impatiently, wanting to ignore that logic.
"I'm not rushing her for one. She will answer when she decides."
"Graces likes to avoid things," Draco informed slowly. "Sometimes you have to press her."
"I think it's bad form to press a girl for an answer to a proposal," Graham chuckled.
"Well, did you at least ask her on a date?" Draco pressed.
"Uh, no…" Graham admitted awkwardly. "Longbottom sort of showed up and interrupted."
"Longbottom? You didn't say Longbottom was up there."
"We were discussing my interactions with the Dark Lord and Graces' reaction to the proposal, I didn't think it mattered that Longbottom showed up at the end to serve her tea." Graham paused for a moment. "He's always around, Longbottom. He likes her. Looks like he likes her a lot. Nitwit seems to be in love with her or something."
"Infatuation is not love," Draco muttered, all of the sudden wishing he had a drink in hand.
"Longbottom is now very aware about where you and your sister stand in this war," Graham pointed out carefully. "And he seems to want to do nothing more than help her. He doesn't even seem to be questioning where he stands morally with it. What do you call that, Draco?"
"Not love," Draco maintained.
"Well," Graham shrugged. "It's interesting to say the least."
"Yeah, well, I don't need mine or my sister's life being more interesting," Draco gritted. "Another good thing that could come out of this marriage is Longbottom would be out of here."
"He can't be out of the picture now?" Graham frowned.
Draco looked up at Graham hesitantly, before leaning closer so no one could hear.
"I don't want you talking to people about this, okay?" Draco stipulated taking a deep breathe when Graham nodded his head. "Graces has been scared for a long time now," Draco began quietly. "Longbottom has been paying her for the tutoring sessions. The life debt is over, so now he's paying her, mighty generously for someone of his wealth too. Anyways, she's saving in case we need to hide. I didn't have the heart to tell her that there was no way. So I let her continue. I figure it can let her have this false sense of security. With you, she wouldn't need it."
"I'm sorry," Graham murmured, looking away. "I hope she never finds out that her plan could not work."
"Yeah," Draco nodded, his mind now being invaded with his sister pleading with him to run away, desperately trying to convince him they should take the money and run. "I should wake up the muggle and head back to her."
Draco stood up and moved over to where Dr. Harris had passed out on a corner recliner. After a few unceremonious nudges the exhausted man stood from the chair.
"How long was I out?" he yawned.
"A bit," Draco clipped, already turning towards Graces' room. Dr. Harris dragged his feet along behind him and Draco made a mental note to give the man some pepper up potion. The last thing he wanted was a half dead muggle doctor treating his sister.
"Longbottom what the bloody hell are you doing!"
"Uh… nothing," Neville sputtered, placing the glass of wine he was drinking down. "Just having a drink."
"You know I don't like drinking alone," Graces shrugged. "You're the one who left me here alone."
"So you drink with Longbottom?" Draco asked in disbelief.
"It's a glass of wine, Draco," Graces sighed rolling her eyes. "By the way, thanks for asking. Yes my throat does feel better."
Draco sent a death glare over at Neville sitting nervously in the chair, but Dr. Harris walked over to the tea cup.
"What's in it?" he asked, looking down into the cup.
"Marshmallow root, honey and licorice root," Neville mumbled. "And the plant is called an aloe vera… She said she would rather you apply it, but what you do is—"
"I know what an aloe vera plant is," Dr. Harris chuckled. "This is great, exactly what she needs."
"Good," Neville nodded, moving awkwardly out of his seat as Draco came forth to claim the chair by his sister. "I—uh— also brought you some things as well," Neville added still talking to Dr. Harris, but keeping a cautious eye on Draco.
"Brought me some things?" Dr. Harris repeated curiously.
"Yeah," Neville nodded, picking up the bundle he brought for the doctor. "Just some comforts I thought you would appreciate and that book we discussed.."
"Neville, I could kiss you," Dr. Harris grinned.
Neville blushed and murmured that it was nothing
"Fresh pants, trousers, a razor and soap? That's not nothing, that's damn human," Dr. Harris insisted grabbing the toiletries and dashing over to the bathroom.
"Where are you going?" Draco frowned.
"I am going to shower," Dr. Harris sang, practically giddy with the thought.
"What about my sister," Draco protested angrily.
"Five year olds know how to put on aloe vera; you and Mr. Longbottom will manage."
Draco abruptly stood up from his seat and turned to where the plant was.
"What do I do?" he snarled glaring at Neville.
"Uh, well, I could do it," Neville offered, uncomfortable with the hostility ripe in the air.
"You're not touching my sister," Draco swore, holding his finger out to Neville menacingly. "Not now, not ever. I'll take care of her. As a matter of fact, you're no longer needed. Leave."
"Draco," Graces whispered.
"Graces, you keep out of this," Draco warned, moving nose to nose with Neville.
"You wanted to help and you have," Draco gritted. "Now leave."
"Draco," Graces whispered again. "Longbottom was catching me up on classes. We were discussing—"
"There are other people, your own people, that can catch you up for classes," Draco reminded, his eyes not moving away from Neville's. "You have other things to be thinking about anyways."
Neville frowned and moved to try and look at Graces, an act that had Draco's blood boiling in his veins as he moved to block her from his view.
"She doesn't need you anymore," Draco informed coldly. "Leave."
"Your intimidation tactics are not going to work on me, Malfoy. You can't—"
"This is not intimidation." Draco cuffed Neville, sending him into the post of another bed. "You need to leave. She is my sister, my family and you are not welcome here now. You have no more use to us now. Leave."
"Draco, stop it!" Graces cried, as Draco sent another blow to Neville's chest pushing him closer to the door.
"You tell him to leave," Draco demanded turning to his sister. "You tell him to leave right now and not return, Graces. Or I swear to the Gods I'll—"
"My my, what is going on here?" a sultry voice purred. Draco looked up to see Nott smiling happily in the doorway at his and Neville's spat.
"Get out!" both Draco and Neville demanded angrily in unison. Draco scowled and looked over questioningly at the sandy-haired boy next to him, who seemed to be on the verge of tackling Theodore.
"Still allowing for Longbottom to be around?" Nott asked sweetly, moving into the room and leering over Graces' bed. "That's interesting."
It was the second time today Draco had to hear that Neville's time around Graces was"interesting". Only this time it struck something. Graham found it interesting for reasons related to Neville's feelings, but Nott seemed to be insinuating it was interesting for reasons related to Graces'.
"I don't think it's that interesting," Graces shrugged, her face pouted similarly to when she wants to make light of a situation her mother wants to discuss. "I tutor him for a life debt and he fancies me. I mean honestly, Nott, you of all people should understand where Longbottom is coming from. I mean, how many times have I denied you and yet you still continue trying." Nott bristled at Graces comment, but remained where he stood. "Tell me, Theodore, what's it like to want something so desperately and not be able to have it?" Graces goaded. "I've never known such a feeling."
"I had you," Nott murmured.
"Did you?" Graces asked innocently. "If someone gives you a box with a truffle in it and you didn't get to eat said truffle before losing it, did you ever really have it?"
"That's enough, Graces," Draco hissed, having a feeling that toying with Nott at this moment was not going to be helpful to either of them. Graces scowled, but did not persist in her mocking. The damage however was done and Draco knew it. Nott was not the same boy he used to play trivial child's games with. He had changed into the kind of man with more sinister tastes in entertainment.
"Let's speak in private; shall we?"
It wasn't a question and though the words were not threatening there was a bite to them. A chill went down Draco's spine as the other boy passed him to enter the hall. He wished he was the one that could do that. Not too long ago he was, but now he was the one that was cowering in shadows.
Neville watched as Draco turned sharply and followed Nott out the door.
"What is wrong with you!" Neville hissed. "I don't like Nott either, but Graces you should not be goading him. Do you have any idea what a guy like Nott will do after his pride has been—"
"You need to leave. And you need to leave now," Graces interjected desperately.
"What? No. No way. I can't leave you. Not now, not like this."
"Longbottom, you have to leave. Please. Nott is already going to say you were here. You are going to be on their radar, please you have to leave. They cannot see you."
"Who? Death Eaters? Are more Death Eaters coming?"
"Please, leave. Please."
"What are they going to do, huh? Kill me? Here at Hogwarts?"
"Oh, because that's never happened before? A student turning up dead in the castle?" Graces snapped. "Longbottom, you need to leave and after you leave today do not come back here. I don't even think Snape is aware you have—"
"That's another thing I wanted to ask you about. Snape. Is he a—"
"Longbottom, you need to leave," Graces stressed. "Being here, with us like this. You're going to get yourself killed. Leave now, while you can. Nott and Draco are in the hall. You won't make it out of this dormitory if others show up."
"You really think they are going to kill me?" Neville frowned. "I can't say anything. Everyone knows I can't say anything at all. Why would they kill me?"
"Do you really want to take the chance?" Graces asked, her face a mosaic of worries. "Please, leave. Please. I will see you Tuesday. Please."
Neville wanted to continue to argue. To say that he would rather take that chance than leave her alone, but as he watched Graces whole middle tremble he found himself agreeing to leave.
"Thank you," Graces breathed, clearly relieved that he was listening to her.
"I can't come back tomorrow? You're sure?"
"No, I really do need to think," Graces whispered. "I need some time away from you. I don't think clearly when you're here. I allow too much and it makes doing what I need to difficult."
"I am beginning to reconsider leaving," Neville half joked, smiling sadly down at her.
Graces awkwardly smiled at his dark humor, but said nothing. There wasn't anything she could really say, no comfort she could really give. This was what it was. Nothing could change that.
"Let me come back tomorrow," Neville pleaded, brushing hair back gently. "Maybe just for the morning before classes start?" It was tempting, more tempting than she was willing to allow Neville to know. She wanted him there, she did, but at the same time it was becoming dangerous for him to be there. So she shook her head and asked him to respect her wishes of privacy while she though.
"Alright," Neville sighed. "I'll see you Tuesday," he murmured, leaning down and kissing her sweetly.
"That was foolish," Graces blushed, looking over to the door to make sure no one had come in. "If someone had seen—"
"No one saw," Neville grinned. "Remember, I'm a Gryffindor. We have that luck going for us."
"Luck runs out," Graces smiled.
"Then I should hurry out of here before then," Neville winked, standing up and heading to the door. "And Malfoy." Graces scowled at Neville using her last name, but waited for him to continue. "That was not my last kiss. Regardless of what you decide I'll be expecting something better than that."
Graces couldn't tell if Neville was serious or joking, but either way it had her laughing as he walked out the door. She sat watching the dark wood long after he was gone, mentally tracking where he would be in the castle. She could hear the taps turning off in the showers and Dr. Harris moving about, and at the same time the door opened revealing Draco, Nott, Snape and a hook-nosed wizard she didn't know.
Don't forget to follow/review! Also, here is a timeline for those interested. Remember a lot of these chapters are the same day.
1st week of September
Chapter one
3rd week of September
Chapter two, three, and four.
Chapter three was Neville and Graces encounter in the Greenhouse.
4th week of September
Chapter five, six, seven, and eight.
5th week of September
Chapter nine and ten and eleven 12 13
1st week of October
Chapter 14, 15,16, 17, (14,15,16,and 17 are the same day) 18, 19, 20,21, 22(20, 21 and 22 are the same day), 23, 24, 25, 26 (25 and 26 Saturday), 27 (Beginning of 27 is Sunday.)
Chapter 25 is when Graces went to the three Broomsticks and helped Hannah when she injured her hand. It is also the chapter that Katie Bell is cursed in.
2nd week of October
Chapter 27(Monday), 28(Tuesday), 29(Friday and Saturday), 30 and 31(Still Saturday), 32(Sunday), 33(Sunday and Monday)
31 is the Slytherin party in the woods after the game.
3rd week of October
Chapter 33, 34 (Tuesday and Wednesday), 35 (Thursday), 36 Friday Saturday and Ending Monday)
4th Week of October
Chapter 36 and 37 (Monday), (38 Tuesday)
5th week of October/ 1st week of November
Chapter 39 (Tuesday night and wednesday day and night this was the chapter Neville put the scales on Graces.)
Chapter 40- Thursday Halloween
Chapter 41- Friday- Bathroom scene with Hermione and Higgs ministry letter.
Chapter 42- still Friday night and then moves to Saturday morning.
1st week of November
Chapter 43 and 44 are Monday through Friday, with the funeral being on Friday morning and Graces meeting the Dark Lord with Thomas Friday night.
45 is still apart of Friday night.
Chapter 46 and 47 are Saturday.
Chapter 48 is Sunday