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: Huge thank you to my beta Denarii for editing and my best friend Aleah for reading it over.

Special thanks to bageltiger, spannieren, noone297, Maiannaise, Lotono, pokegirl1005, GTH, Blue Luver5000, HT188, char170217, Guest and beachchick3

Chapter 56

Neville looked around the shabby barn filled with thestrals. He had been in here for hours waiting anxiously for Graces to appear. All day he had longed to be with her. He could physically feel his love for her weighing on his heart, growing constantly. It didn't ache. Loving her didn't hurt, but at times he felt like he was going burst from it. It was all just very confusing, the feeling was in so many ways indescribable.

He heard the barn door slowly creak open and smiled knowing that Graces had arrived. He turned to greet her and let out a muffled sound of surprise when the blonde wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely.

"Good evening to you too," Neville panted when Graces moved away from him.

"Good evening," Graces smiled, turning away as she put her bag on an empty work bench and began removing her coat and scarf. Neville swallowed hard as he took in her appearance. She was wearing jeans, very well fitted jeans and what looked to be an old Slytherin Quidditch shirt from a year or so back. Nothing special, but for some reason beyond him it was very affecting. By the time Graces turned back around to him, his heart was hammering in his throat and he had to remind himself to be respectful.

"You-uh-look really nice," Neville blushed, a bit embarrassed that Graces had caught him staring so intently.

"Doesn't take much to please you, huh?" Graces chuckled softly. "An old pair of trousers and a T."

"It's very flattering," Neville noted, watching Graces' fingers playing with the bottom edge of the shirt as she shyly bit her lower lip.

"Thank you," she murmured after a few moments, her arms folding around her. She stood leaning against the workbench, her hands fidgeting with his mother's ring as she seemed to be searching for something to say.

"I never took you for the jeans and a T kind of girl," Neville admitted, slowly drifting over to her. "You usually dress so fashionably."

"This… covers things," Graces eluded, her arms going back to being folded in front of her. "It's long so even if I reach for something overhead I stayed covered. My other shirts are just more tight fitting and a lot of them show some midriff."

"Well, I really like this," Neville smiled, hoping Graces would not feel so uncomfortable. "It's, I don't know, just nice."

"Just nice," Graces smirked. "You should be a poet, Mr. Longbottom."

"If I decided to go that path I would beat out your Shakespeare."

"Oh, would you now?" Graces laughed, bending over slightly from her amusement.

"Yeah, I would. That bloke was not that grand of a writer when it came to poetry,"

"What makes you say that?" Graces asked, turning to face him curiously.

"Sonnet 130."

"Ah, Graces nodded. "That one."

"Yeah, that one," Neville laughed. "That's pretty terrible."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you think it's terrible?" Graces clarified, her silver eyes evaluating him closely.

"Do you think it's good?" Neville asked, slightly shocked.

"You didn't answer my question, Longbottom. Why do you dislike it?"

Neville felt as though Graces were leading him into a trap. He had a very distinct feeling that when he told her why she was going to end up making him feel foolish, but he had already said he disliked it and there was no point now in trying to recover.

"He's insulting to her," Neville started hesitantly. "He says all these horrible things about her and then goes and says he loves her."

"He's not insulting, he's honest. He's saying that she isn't pretty, but in a way he's also reprimanding society for only giving worth to a woman for her beauty. All the time these poems describe women as immortal beings like angels and goddesses, but never say anything remotely truthful."

"Is that how you see it?"

"That's how I see it," Graces smiled. "I like it. It speaks to me. He sees her. There is no foolishness to it. He sees her. He's saying yeah, she's no looker. She's no goddess, but I love her."

"Still it's not the typical poem or sonnet," Neville argued, still not a fan of the piece.

"No, it's not," Graces agreed, smiling quietly. "Shakespeare was very beyond people. He liked to do what was different. He must have been a very daring man. I read that this poem was to mock most love poems. All of them are very cliche and Shakespeare decided to poke fun at this. But I think it was more than just making fun of the standard love poems, I think he was also saying that it's unfair to compare women to perfection when it's impossible to achieve. His mistress wasn't the perfect idea of a woman."

Neville watched as Graces seemed to retreat into her own thoughts. He wondered if she was thinking of how Shakespeare must have loved this mystery woman, if Graces herself longed for such a love, if she would think his love was just as good if she knew of it.

"Your eyes are nothing like the sun," Neville began reciting. "Coral is far more red than your lips." Graces laughed as he began echoing Shakespeare's great sonnet to her. "If snow be white, why then your breasts are dun. I have seen roses—"

"You're skipping parts!" Graces cried, all her pearly teeth showing as she smiled. "You didn't mention the hairs. If hairs be wires, black wires grow from her head."

"Shhh," Neville shushed. "I can't say that one cause your hair is clearly not black. Now where was I? Oh, yes. I have seen roses damask'd red and white. But no such roses do I see in your cheeks. And in some perfumes is there more delight than in the breath from you that reeks." Neville tried to repeat more of the sonnet, but Graces put her hand over his lips and was practically dying from laughter as she told him to be silent.

"You're ruining the sonnet!" she laughed, as Neville dragged her hands down from his mouth and began shouting as much of it as he could before she regained control and was muffling the words against her hand again.

"—YOU, WHEN YOU WALK, TREAD ON GROUND."

"Shhhh," Graces shushed, her laughter far more louder than his resertation. "You're disturbing the thestrals!"

"I'll be quieter," Neville promised, wrapping his arms around her and leaning in closely to continue. Graces let out a few more giggles, but stopped trying to make him silent.

"And yet, by heaven, I think my love rare," Neville whispered, his mouth brushing up against her neck as he spoke under her ear. "As any you belied with false compare."

Neville almost immediately regretted saying those last lines. The laughter was now gone, and though Graces smiled politely and gave an off handed laugh, it wasn't real like before. She awkwardly untangled herself from his hold and moved away to her bag like she needed to get something. It was stupid, he took it too far. Graces wasn't at all ready for him to try and express his real feelings for her. This was after all just a ruse, and he knew she became uncomfortable with anything too intimate. Anything that showed more attachment. She became uncomfortable because you meant it when you said it.

She doesn't know that.

Your tone seemed sincere.

"Listen, I, uh, wanted to talk to you about something," Graces said unsurely, clearly trying to hide her discomfort from earlier. "It's regarding the house."

Neville was a bit shocked at the abrupt change in subject but went over to where Graces was taking out multiple papers and magazines.

"I was hoping that I could give you some orders to send for furniture, clothes and other supplies of that nature. I'll of course give you the gold for it all." Neville frowned and picked up a few of Graces listings. A crib, some toys ranging in ages groups, a toddler sized bed, some linens… She was wanting to ensure Octavian had a nursery set. "I would order it myself, but I don't want to arouse any suspicion."

"I have all the furniture," Neville murmured, looking over the list carefully. "Cribs and sized beds included. They're used, but they should all work fine."

"I would rather just order new," Graces insisted, taking out a few other magazines and orders.

"I just don't want to raise suspicion by me ordering nursery things for a child I clearly don't have."

"Oh… that's right," Graces breathed, obviously deflated.

"I could order muggle ones," Neville offered, watching Graces for a reaction. "It's not like our cribs are all that different."

"Ours are spelled," Graces corrected. "They don't allow the child to climb out and an alarm sounds if the baby suddenly stops breathing. Sudden infant death syndrome is practically gone from our world."

"I'm sure we can figure out the charms and do it ourselves," Neville pointed out.

"I suppose you're right," Graces nodded. "I just wanted to make things as nice as possible… The situation won't be ideal and I wanted to make it nice."

"It will be nice," Neville promised, taking Graces hand. "It's a very nice house and we will make sure everything is set up nicely for your family. Don't worry about a thing. This is supposed to ease your worries, not give you new ones."

"I know," Graces sighed. "I just keep thinking of things. Octavian is so young, he's going to need a lot of stuff. I don't know how long we will have to be there."

"Whatever he needs I will make sure to get it. You don't have to have everything right away, you can tell me what you need when you are there too."

Graces looked at him hesitantly for a moment, before biting her lip and asking if he would be staying with them.

"Oh, uh, no I won't be," Neville blushed. "I thought it best if even when you are there no one knows anything about my involvement." Graces frowned at this statement and raised her eyebrows signaling Neville to continue. "I just don't want anyone to think that I'm helping because you and I, well, you know."

"Sleep together," Graces clarified,her eyes seeming to become bigger as the realization dawned on her.

"Yeah… I mean I don't want anyone to think—"

"That I'm whoring myself out for protection," Graces clipped, removing her hand from his. "Thanks, I appreciate that."

Neville reddened at the bluntness and began to stumble over his words to explain, but Graces raised a hand silencing him.

"Longbottom, I'm not mad about what you said. I'm just... I don't know. I don't want them thinking that either and I feel…"

Neville stayed silent for a few moments as Graces continued to wrap her head around what her family would think if they found out. He could tell the thought alone made her a little queasy. This clearly wasn't anything at all like that, but he knew she wouldn't want the thought even crossing anyone's mind.

"Did you want me there?"

Graces looked up at him and shook her head slowly. "I think if you were there it would cause a lot of tension. Not to mention you'll be in school."

"Tension, huh," Neville hummed.

"It's not that I wouldn't want to see you," Graces murmured, tucking her hair behind her ears. "It's just that I—"

"Still wouldn't want your family to know," Neville finished.

"I don't know," Graces whispered. "They wouldn't approve and they wouldn't want to be in that house if they knew about you, about what we've been doing. It would make living in such tight living quarters very tense. And Draco for sure would think you were taking advantage and my mother, oh gods, if she knew. We're not courting, we're just…" Graces waved her hand around to indicate what they were doing.

Neville bit his tongue from saying that they could formally court then. He could only imagine Graces' reaction to that idea and he felt that if he mentioned it she would feel forced to agree. Like if she didn't she would lose the house.

"I would want you to visit though."

"Sorry?"

"Would you visit?" Graces repeated sheepishly. "At night or something. I know most of the year you'll be in school, but—"

"Yeah," Neville smiled. "I'll visit. I'll visit as often as I can. Or as often as you'll let me."

"I would let you visit pretty often," Graces smiled back, clasping her hands in front of her.

"How often?"

"Often," Graces murmured. "I really do like you, Longbottom."

"You're okay," Neville shrugged, giving the blonde a smile.

"Just okay?" Graces smiled, nudging his side playfully and lingering close.

"Yeah, just okay."

The two of them stood there for a few moments. Lingering near one another. Neville could feel Graces leg against his and they both slouched against the workbench. She was so pretty. He had seen her daily and still in moments like this he couldn't get over how beautiful she was leaning against a bench in jeans and an old shirt.

"I'll never be able to thank you," Graces whispered, staring at the middle of the floor. "Never. Not in a hundred years could I ever repay you for this."

"There's nothing to repay," Neville promised, taking her hand in his casually. "I want to help."

"Still," Graces breathed. "You're giving me my brother. I'll forever be thankful. Even if we don't use the house. I'm thankful."

"You're not going to start crying again are you?" Neville teased good naturedly, moving closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Graces laughed and playfully hit his chest, wiping away a joyful tear away before hand.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I've never been this emotional and-"

"I was just kidding, Graces," Neville laughed. "I don't mind you crying because you're happy."

"I am happy," Graces realized, smiling up at him. "I'm so very happy. And worry free. I haven't felt this calm in ages."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it's not all gone, but most of it is. I'm still worried about my father, but..." Graces shrugged in lieu of finishing. Neville wondered if there was anything that could be done for Lucius Malfoy. He wished there was. He knew Graces loved her father and for some reason the fact that she loved him made Neville feel differently about him. He certainly did not think of him as a good man, but he also didn't think of him like he did before. "We should do something," Graces decided, looking up at him.

"Like what?"

"I don't know just something. I don't really want to just sit around talking about the same things again and again. I want to do something with you. Like something normal."

Neville frowned at the word. He wasn't entirely sure what Graces was insinuating with normal.

"Lets play a game or something."

"A game?" Neville laughed.

"Yeah, let's play wizards chess or exploding snaps."

"You want to play a game?" Neville repeated. "A game."

"Why do you look so perplexed?" Graces grinned, turning to her bag and taking out a deck of cards. "Don't you and your housemates play games to pass the time?"

"We do," Neville nodded. "I just, I don't know."

"What?"

"You just took me by surprise," Neville explained. "It's not everyday you ask to play a game with me."

"Well, I'm asking today," Graces smiled. "So what do you want to play?"

"Uh, I don't know." Neville suddenly was a little self-conscious. He was terrible at games and he had a feeling that Graces was very good. "Do you want to build a house of cards?" Neville asked, knowing that he was actually very decent at that, being an only child and having a good, steady hand.

"A house of cards with exploding cards," Graces grinned. "Okay, that sounds like fun."

"Great." Neville moved over to a clear area of floor that was level, he muttered a few cleaning spells to take away the dust and sat down. Graces sat across from him, smiling like a cheshire cat.

"I'm very good at this. Draco and I once built a whole castle," the blonde boasted, shuffling the cards elaborately. "Though it wasn't with exploding cards. My point is, Longbottom, that you better be prepared to be showed up."

"We'll see, Malfoy."

Neville laid the base of the card house down before handing the deck back to Graces. The blonde smirked at him and took a few cards to stack and then suddenly she paused. Neville frowned as Graces' playfulness was abandoned and she stared at the small level already made. Tentatively she made an upside down v with two cards and slowly moved to stack it on top.

"I don't think you're going to be showing me up," Neville laughed, as Graces completely demolished the beginning of their card house. "You put your whole hand in it!"

Graces blushed, but didn't offer an explanation. Instead she tried to assemble the base again. Neville laughed as she had difficulty lining up the pillars against one another, it was as though she couldn't tell how close the other pillars she made were. Her hands seemed to overestimate how close they were.

Graces had finally managed to assemble something of a base when all the cards exploded, thus ruining her work.

"Hey, Malfoy."

"What!" Graces snapped, tossing the cards in her hand down angrily.

"You're not very good at this," Neville smiled, wondering if Graces always became so childish when she lost.

"I was good at it," Graces whispered, more to herself than him. Neville frowned as she seemed to be seriously upset. He didn't understand how something so silly could bring her so close to tears.

"Graces?"

"Sorry," Graces murmured, placing on a false small smile. "I'm just a bad sport. Let's keep playing."

Neville felt like there was something more, but before he could put his finger on it Graces was gathering up all the cards and declaring that she would whoop him in speed.

"Oh so you're just going to change the game on me since I'm winning?" Neville teased, allowing Graces to divvy up the cards.

"That's the plan, Longbottom," Graces winked.

Neville was surprised at how fun playing cards with Graces was. She wasn't such a bad sport when she lost in speed, though she didn't lose often. Every once in a while he would beat her and she would laugh and beg the cards to explode before he put down the last of his cards.

"I need new cards," Graces declared. "These ones snap too much when I'm about to win. They have no loyalty."

"You're so ridiculous."

"Don't bite the hand that feeds you, Longbottom," Graces sang, dealing out new cards.

"Since when have you fed me?" Neville laughed.

"Well, I do feed other appetites of yours," Graces smirked, a sultry look coming to her eyes, before she began giggling. "No seriously though, I brought you food."

Neville frowned in confusion as Graces hurried over to her bag and took out a huge tin of food.

"I thought you may be hungry," Graces explained, removing the tins lid and revealing what must have been tonight's dinner from the Great Hall along with three cauldron cakes that looked to be homemade. "You didn't come to breakfast, at lunch you grabbed two sandwiches and an apple and fled, then you didn't show up for dinner." Graces gave Neville a pointed look as though he should realize how immensely foolish this was. "So I took it upon myself to ensure you didn't starve."

"I very much appreciate that," Neville grinned, taking a piece of chicken and tucking in. He seriously didn't realize how starved he was until he was able to smell the food. Now his stomach ached with hunger. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Neville felt a bit odd with Graces watching him eat. He all of the sudden was very careful to not be messy, not take too big of bites and he prayed he looked nothing like Ron when he ate.

"What did you do today?" Graces asked curiously, starting a small game of solitaire as she waited for him to finish.

Great, now she's talking to me while I eat… Neville hurried to chew the potatoes he had just put in his mouth.

"Nothing, really," he murmured. "I sat in the courtyard and Luna kept me company."

"The courtyard," Graces echoed. "I was in the courtyard today."

"I know," Neville admitted, taking another bite of chicken. "I think you and Pansy ordered Octavian every outfit available."

"I didn't see you there."

"I didn't want to be seen."

"Were you spying on me?" Graces asked narrowing her eyes, though no real anger was there.

"I enjoy hearing you happy, so when you showed up in such a joyful mood I stayed."

Graces twisted her mouth to keep from smiling at his comment, but Neville could tell she was flattered. Her cheeks were red and she was doing a poor job of hiding her smile.

"So," the blonde began awkwardly, clearly wanting to distract him from her flattery. "Are you still avoiding your friends?"

"Yep." Neville made sure his next bite was especially generous so that he wouldn't have to answer anymore questions.

"You know I can just wait till you swallow," Graces pointed out, causing Neville to take another great bite before he clearing his mouth.

"That's attractive," Graces snorted. "The food will eventually be gone, then you will have to talk to me."

"There's nothing to discuss, really," Neville murmured, covering his mouth as he spoke. "They all treated me poorly and I'm not going to apologize for my feelings."

"You could apologize for not being open with them."

"It's not like we are all especially close," Neville defended. "Like if I had talked to them before about things like this, then maybe, but I never did."

Graces stared at him for a few moments before taking a cauldron cake out of the tin and munching on it.

"You're a very private man, Mr. Longbottom," she thought aloud. "It's so easy to forget about that because of how warm you are. It tricks people into thinking you're open."

"I just—"

"It's not a bad thing," Graces interrupted. "I'm not saying that. I'm just noting it."

"You've noted it before," Neville grumbled, really disliking where this conversation was going.

"I have. I just felt like bringing it up again." Graces popped another piece of the cake into her mouth and sighed contently at the taste before looking back at him. "What did you do with Luna?"

Neville relieved to see they were moving away from the topic of his relationships with his year mates, jumped on the change of topic.

"We just talked. Caught up a bit."

"What did you talk about?"

"Her father's paper, wrackspurts—don't ask—and, well, you," Neville admitted, trying to be casual.

"You didn't tell her anything though, right? Nothing about my brother or the previous week."

"No. No, Luna was just interested in how we were doing. She seemed to know yesterday was just a ruse."

Graces nodded, but didn't say more.

"I'm glad about yesterday," Neville said sheepishly. "It was nice to hear you so happy in the courtyard… worry free. I heard you ordering clothes for Draco to be worn in the summer and—well I'm glad you feel you can do that."

"I'm glad too," Graces smiled. "I'm just sorry it cost you your happiness."

"It didn't. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that this makes me happy."

"You're avoiding the Great Hall," Graces dead panned, giving Neville a pointed look.

"It will all eventually pass."

Graces hummed a reply, but allowed the subject to drop.

"These cauldron cakes are fantastic," Neville complimented, wanting to fill the silence. "Are they the ones that your mother sends you?"

"Yeah they are. She sends them weekly along with other assortments."

"She bakes them?"

"She does," Graces said proudly. "Though she only bakes. The house elves make meals and she only makes these when Draco and I are in school. She doesn't really spend time in the kitchens when we are home."

"Kitchens? As in plural?" Neville gawked.

"Yes, as in plural," Graces laughed. "I'll bring a picture of our home. It's huge."

"Oh, you will have a lot to get used to if you all have to go to this house," Neville chuckled, imagining Graces reaction to the humble house.

"I'm sure it will be fine," Graces murmured, falling silent and biting her lower lip. Clearly wanting to say something. "Is-is it your parent's home?" she asked finally, looking up at him as though she feared her question alone would sting him.

"No," Neville answered patiently. "My parent's home is more of a cottage. It's much too small for so many people."

"A cottage," Graces repeated. "That must be nice. A little getaway." Neville nodded noncommittally. "Do you go there often?"

"I've never been there," Neville said evenly. "I've only seen pictures, but from what I've seen it was very nice. Lots of flowers, a picket fence, vines growing freely up the outer walls and a stream a bit of a ways from the house."

"You've never been there," Graces repeated. "Why?"

"Why should I?"

"It was your parents house," Graces stated, as though that answered everything. "It was your home."

"I don't remember anything about that house. I have no memories of it. My gran's house is my home," Neville explained, keeping his voice level. "I really have no attachment to my parent's cottage."

"None?"

"None."

Graces stared at him as though he was losing his mind. Neville tried not to show any kind of emotion on his face. This was it. She was going to ask about his parents and he was going to tell her. He had never told anyone how he felt about his parents, but he was going to tell her. He wondered how she was going to look at him after he told her how he felt. If she would judge him. If she would try to understand.

"Do you want to listen to music?"

"You want to listen to music?" Neville frowned.

"Yeah, I was thinking we could listen while we played cards some more."

Neville couldn't believe Graces was just dropping this subject. He felt unnerved as she began setting up the radio to the muggle station and sitting back down in front of him getting the cards ready. It was so casual, like the conversation touching on his parents didn't even happen.

"You're not going to ask me anything else?" Neville frowned.

"I'm not," Graces clipped, dividing up the last of the cards. "You forget I am the ice queen. I can shut off my emotions like that." Graces snapped her fingers for emphasis. "And I know why people do it. You're not ready to discuss your parents and I'm not going to ask you to. We can discuss the topic when you're ready."

"And if I'm never ready?" Neville asked, thinking about how he's never told a soul his feelings about his parents.

Graces looked up at him and met his eyes unflinchingly, the tips of her fingers dangled off her crossed legs and teased the cards laying face down, but her attention was all on Neville.

"You were about to tell me everything if I asked," she said gently, her hand reaching out and touching his knee. "You're going to be ready."

"And until then we will be normal and play games and listen to music," Graces said, offering him an encouraging smile before removing her hand. Neville nodded and didn't say anything as Graces grabbed the chess board from her bag and set up the pieces. He didn't know how to tell her that he wasn't really closing off his feelings; he really was that detached. He wondered if she would look at him differently if she knew. Her family was everything to her, how could he tell her he didn't know how he felt about his own. He often felt his love for his parents was only out of obligation. That he felt shame in it, but he couldn't change the feeling. "You can go first," Graces offered, pretending not to notice the thick silence around them.

And so they played. Neville remained in his own head, unable to shake away from thoughts of his parents and judgment from Graces when one day he voiced these thoughts. He didn't even care that Graces was seeing how hopeless he was in games like chess, he just moved the pieces one after another.

"You know they didn't love one another," Graces proclaimed, breaking the silence.

"What?" Neville frowned.

"Shakespeare and his mistress," the blonde stated, as though they had been speaking about Shakespeare the whole time. "They had a very toxic relationship. She cheated, he cheated, they lied to one another constantly and pretended to be people they weren't. He made himself believe he loved her."

"Why didn't he love his wife?"

"I don't know," Graces sighed. "She got pregnant and they got married. Lust does not often bring good marriages. They were both unhappily married."

"I suppose not," Neville agreed. "Still, men shouldn't cheat on their wives."

"No, they shouldn't," Graces acknowledged. "It's interesting though, isn't it? He wrote so many lovely things about love and I don't think the man ever truly loved anyone."

"Maybe that's why he wrote such things. He wished he had loved in those ways. Maybe that's why he convinced himself he loved his mistress. He wanted to believe he had love."

"Maybe," Graces mused, her silver eyes distracted from the conversation and hitched on his knight that he was moving.

"Longbottom, you're terrible at this."

"Yeah, I've heard that a few times before," Neville chuckled, now seeing that he had just sent his knight to be slaughtered.

"Chess is like a giant game of war. You have to think of the bigger picture. Stop trying to save all your pieces," Graces ordered, leaning over the board so that they were practically nose to nose. "If you don't you will remain on the defense and you will get nowhere near my king. It will be a slaughter. Send others to die so the majority can live."

"Maybe it would be best if we had some sort of treaty and everyone gets to live," Neville joked.

"That would be best, unfortunately for you I will accept no treaties," Graces declared, sending her queen to destroy his knight.

Neville had a hard time not laughing after that. For the rest of the game Graces made a very elaborate show of slaughtering him all across the board. She made sound effects and brought her voice up in a high pitch as she pretended every single piece of his tried to beg for their lives. She was like a six year old playing with figurines. At the end when she was about to put him in check mate she insisted he himself lay down and play dead.

It was a great night. It wasn't completely without sad discussions, but Graces and he laughed more than anything else. And the last hour was spent with the two of them kissing passionately in the barn stall they had spent the night in.

It was glorious kissing Graces, holding her close and winding his hands through her hair. Neville had never felt as whole as he did with her body pressed against his. Each breath was shared in the other's and each minute they both burned with a higher fever. Neville was having a hard time containing himself. His breathing had become erratic and his heart continued to pound against his chest. His mind continued to wander to memories of the past. The feeling of Graces' bare skin against his lips, how her hair would fall against her breasts. Painfully aroused, Neville moved to be more on top of her, his skin burning with desire.

At first Graces welcomed his actions and nibbled from his neck to the under part of his ear, causing him to groan with pleasure before pushing her firmly down so he could kiss her in the same way. The noises that came from her mouth were like wine for the ears, he felt himself becoming intoxicated off every gasp and gently moan. He spread his fingers out against her hip and slowly began to in up under Graces' shirt. An act he regretted, because the moment his hand found flesh Graces stopped him and said she had to go.

"Do you?" Neville panted, his trousers now uncomfortable tight.

"Yeah, I do," Graces apologized, leaning up and kissing him gently. "It's late."

Neville died a little in that kiss. Nothing could ever taste so sweet and be so bitter. He wasn't ready for the night to end. He dipped his head and captured Graces' lips in another tender kiss, before whispering huskily how much he wanted her.

"You're making this hard," Graces groaned, closing her eyes against the sensation of Neville's hot breath against her ears and taught body against hers.

"Please, don't go," Neville whispered, kissing down the base of her neck. "Please."

"If I stay we're going to sleep together."

"I can live with that," Neville promised, trying to keep the blonde from getting up. "It will be hard, but I can live with it."

Neville could tell Graces wanted to say yes, that as much as he wanted to be with her she wanted to be with him, but her self-consciousness won out and the blonde shook her head. Neville wanted to press, wanted to tell her how he didn't care about what her stomach may look like and that he just wanted to be with her, but he stopped himself. She was saying no and as hard as it was at the moment he was going to respect that.

"Shall we meet again tomorrow night?" Graces asked hopefully, getting up and gathering her things. She looked over at Neville unsurly like she was suspecting that he would say no.

"Graces, I will meet you every night if you are willing to be sleep deprived."

The blonde smiled at this and leaned down to where Neville was still residing and kissed him softly.

"I appreciate you being so understanding," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his. "I know this isn't ideal and—"

"This is ideal, Graces," Neville chuckled. "It's past midnight. I got to spend my night with you playing games, laughing and snogging you senseless. This is more than ideal, it's normal. We've never had anything remotely this normal." Graces smiled and silently laughed at his statement.

"And the fact that you only are letting me snog you also adds to that normalicy," Neville added with a wry smile.

"I suppose it does," Graces grinned.

They were silent for a few moments, each of them lingering near the other not wanting to leave, but eventually they both stood to go. Both students disillusioned themselves and walked to the Slytherin entrance. Neither of them were able to see the other so for once they were able to hold hands in the school halls. Neville enjoyed every step and pretended that this wasn't just to keep track of one another and that they really were that normal couple that held hands in the hall.

When they reached the Slytherin entrance he held her hand tighter, not allowing her to slip away.

"I just wanted to remind you that I don't care," he stated, wishing he could see Graces face. "I really don't. And I have no problem with you not wanting to be intimate, but it bothers me that it's because you feel yourself less than before. Cause-cause I see you as more now."

"Maybe Shakespeare had a point about the comparisons we make about women. Lots of poems emphasize beauty, but if I was talented and I could write I would write about your strength and compassion. I would write about how your kindness touches hearts. And your Malfoyness for lack of a better term," Neville said awkwardly, wishing he was better with words. "I would talk about how happy you make me and how you're humor is… is like the sun."

Neville blushed at how corny he sounded and wished he could take that last statement back. He tried to think of something else to say, but before he could find the words he felt Graces' lips on his.

"Thank you," Graces whispered, her other hand's fingers lingering on his jaw line. "I'll keep that in mind. Good night."

"Good night," Neville echoed, a little dazed from Graces' goodbye.

He lingered in the dungeons for a bit wondering if Graces really did believe him before sleepwalking back to his room and collapsing on his bed. He went to sleep that night and dreamed of days like this. Days where he and Graces were free to be what they were tonight.

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