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, beachchick3, char170217, noone297, bridget237, Dracomir7, Danielle, Cree, Blue Luver5000, guest and pinksparkles for the reviews! I really appreciate them guys! As someone who's never written anything before it's just so encouraging to hear feedback!

Chapter 58

Neville inwardly groaned as he heard the soft tapping of Loki at the Gryffindor tower window. Soft tapping on a weekday night meant one thing: Graces had another nightmare. It wasn't about waking up in the dead of night, Neville had no qualms with lack of sleep, it was that Graces had had difficulty sleeping for weeks. The dreamless sleep potion had worked for a week, but because of her abusing them in the summer they weren't as effective as before. Pomfrey had then given her something stronger, which Graces took for a while, but eventually stopped because the side effects made it impossible for her to do well in class.

She was always drowsy. Pomfrey's next move after that was to continue with the stronger potion and Graces would come in and take a wide eye potion in the morning and one in the afternoon if needed. Unfortunately, that caused yet another problem: anxiety. Pomfrey believed it was the combination of the potions together. The new solution was the stronger potion, the wide eye potions and a calming draught at least twice a day. The only time Graces was not taking so many potions was on the weekends when she would meet him. They stopped meeting during the week so she could take the stronger sleeping potion. The new potion required her to be able to get a minimum of 8 hours of sleep. And thus the only time he saw her during a weekday night was when she had a bad dream.

Neville had really believed that this last combinations of potions would work, that the calming draught would even go so far as to stop this stronger sleep potion from eventually not working. She was more relaxed, after all, and he figured her being relaxed would naturally help with dreams. She had not woken him up in the night since starting this new combination a week and a half ago. Everything seemed to be going well.

"Loki, if you nip me I swear to the Gods I will kill you," Neville hissed, letting the owl in and taking the parchment. The bird looked like it was about to scratch him, but Neville took out a few chocolate cockroaches and the idea seemed to leave Loki's mind. Neville let out a small relieved sigh as the owl flew away without any of his blood.

Meet me in the barn. Dress warmly.

Neville went over to his nightstand and took out a small vial of wide eye potion that Luna kept in supply for him. There were definitely perks to being close friends with a Ravenclaw. Luna hadn't even asked him any questions when he asked her for the favor. He, of course, helped her make them, which caused one batch to not be that great, and paid for all the ingredients, but she really didn't ask questions about it. He wondered if the blonde thought he was just using it to stay up all night "sleeping" with Graces, because she also offered to make a potion that would keep him up in other areas, an offer Neville was very quick to decline.

Neville tip-toed out of Gryffindor tower and wondered if Graces would take the mediwitch's advice and see a therapist. He had accidentally overheard Pomfrey telling Graces that the potions would eventually not work and she urged the stubborn blonde to talk to someone—a suggestion that Graces didn't even need to voice her distaste for, it showed so clearly on her face. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He had gone into the hospital wing because a certain someone with gray eyes decided to shove him so hard in the hall he sprained his wrist. He was just going in to get it mended before class when he heard the conversation. Graces didn't know he heard though; he left without seeing Pomfrey, deciding he would rather Graces not know he heard. She didn't tell him either. He supposed she didn't need to, but he still wished she would have.

She didn't tell him what she dreamed either. She would just send him a note to meet her and then want to play games or listen to music, desperate to forget whatever it was that her mind had concocted. And it worked. The moment he arrived she seemed to feel better about it all and she would smile, thank him for coming and want him to hold her for a bit.

It wasn't all sad things though. On the contrary he had been having the time of his life with Graces for the past few weeks. He found out really fast that she had god awful taste in music. He had originally thought she had great taste, because back when she first admitted to liking muggle music she had listed the Sound of Silence as the song that got her into the genre. But no. She had terrible taste. So terrible it was comical.

He had found this out when he went to change the station during a game of chess. Graces had told him to leave it to which he asked:

"You've got to be kidding me?"

"I assure you I'm not, Longbottom," Graces had declared, before placing him in check. "I like this song."

Neville had been sure she was kidding and even ended up snorting out a laugh. He really doubted that Graces Bellatrix Malfoy enjoyed REO Speedwagon, but she insisted she did. When he still didn't believe her, she proceeded to belt out the song 'Can't Fight this Feeling' elaborately from where she sat. She even had dramatic hand movements to go with her little karaoke session and by the end she had started singing on the table they had the chess set on. Ever since he brought the radio in that night in the classroom she had never showed interest in any song that played and now Neville knew why, because Graces Malfoy who had the best taste in fashion, food, books etc. had awful in music.

It was now his favorite thing about her. Every weekend night he had to suffer through awful muggle 80s music and he didn't even care. Graces was the cutest thing when it came to the music she liked. She would sing along, play air guitar, bob her head and the beginning of practically every song was accompanied by "I love this song!" Heaven was filled with bad music and Graces' constant insistence that it was amazing. He teased her mercilessly for it too.

He was learning so much more about her. It was like overnight something had changed. She was so open with him and so… different. She was still Graces, but it was like he had been looking through a hole in the wall to see her before. Now those walls were knocked down. She taught him how to groom the thestrals and told them about each's personality. She told him about what book she was reading and insisted he read along with her so they could discuss what was happening. She talked to him about anything that seemed to come to her mind.

There was still a curtain up around certain parts of her life. She didn't want to talk about her dreams, the specifics of Draco or any things like that, but it wasn't like before. It was a curtain. She would close the curtains on topics she didn't like, but it wasn't like before when she put a wall up and slammed a door in his face. It was more of a thin piece of cloth than stone. He was allowed in her walls now, just not allowed to fully enter certain rooms.

Neville slowed as he approached the barn. The door was open, but the lights were off. He cautiously took out his wand, wary of entering a room that was pitch black.

"Graces?"

"About time!" Graces exclaimed. Neville was about to cast Lumos, but Graces stopped him. "We need it to be dark."

"I can't even see you," Neville argued, unsure of what all this was about, but knowing he didn't like it so far.

Graces moved closer to him so he could make out her silhouette.

"Your eyes will adjust, give them a moment." Neville sighed, but didn't argue. Arguing with her was usually useless anyways. "Better?" Graces asked, moving her arms around his neck.

"Almost," Neville smiled, leaning in and brushing his lips to hers. "Now it's better."

Graces smiled against his lips and muttered something about him being such a sap.

"So, back to the drawing board with Pomfrey?" Neville asked sadly, tightening his hold around her waist.

"No, no," Graces giggled. "I'm so drugged that there is no way I will be having nightmares."

"Then why am I here?" Neville frowned.

"You don't want to be here?" Graces pouted cutely, nudging her nose against his neck.

"I didn't say that," Neville smirked. "Just curious as to why."

"You'll see," Graces whispered, taking him by the hand and turning him around so they were leaving the barn. Neville wanted to protest, but Graces was already dragging him away from the castle and barn.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Neville didn't like that answer considering Graces was walking the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"I don't like this," Neville murmured, trying to pull the blonde back. "Graces, the forest is dangerous, if you think—"

"Please, if it was so dangerous why on earth would my brother have been sent in there with Hagrid, who doesn't even have a wand, for detention."

"You said yourself that the magical world purposely puts us all in danger," Neville pointed out. "You gave me some lecture on teaching responsibility."

"My gods, Longbottom, must you remember everything I say?" Graces asked, turning and looking at him with a grin.

"If I didn't I suspect I would be in a world of trouble."

Graces laughed in agreement and began moving faster. When Neville tried to protest she pretended she didn't hear him and when he stopped and insisted they go back, she began running away from him, causing him to run after her.

"Graces! Graces, stop!" Neville called, trying to catch up. He silently was grateful that he had been working out or he wouldn't have been able to chase her like this. Graces was incredibly fast. She sprinted for a good quarter mile and didn't even seem out of breath. She made a sharp turn into the forest and Neville somehow managed to go faster, now scared out of his mind something was going to happen. But right as he made the same turn Graces did he stopped.

It was a clearing, a clearing with a giant pillow that he assumed used to be a boulder, and blankets. There was a thermos beside the little makeshift bungalow and when he looked up the sky was illuminated by stars.

"You said you've never stargazed," Graces explained, clutching folded blanket to her. "The other day when I was telling you about how my mum would take us, you said you've never stargazed just for fun. Only when it was required for class." Graces smiled proudly and gestured to the area. "So I decided to take you stargazing."

Neville didn't say anything and he was still looking around like he couldn't believe what was happening, but Graces could tell he was happy. In a few minutes he would smile and when he did she was going to take his hand and lead him to the blankets on the ground. And as though on cue, Neville did just that.

"It takes at least half an hour for your eyes to adjust enough in the darkness for you to really be able to see stars and it takes 2 hours more for you to get the full effect," Graces explained, leading Neville to the makeshift bed. "That's why I wouldn't let you turn on the light. Why we had to remain in darkness."

"You could have just told me," Neville pointed out, leaning against the giant boulder pillow and spreading the blanket Graces had been holding out onto both of them.

"I didn't want to ruin the surprise," Graces smiled, looking up at all the diamonds twinkling in the sky. "Isn't it the most breathtaking thing you've ever seen?" she breathed.

"No. Not even close."

Graces blushed at Neville's words and stare, and nervously tucked her hair behind her ears. She really wanted to kiss him. Kiss him slowly so that he would kiss her back with the same tenderness and lay her down under the stars. She wanted to give herself over to the feelings she was having for him, but at the same time she was now becoming frightened of those feelings. Before she could tell herself that anything done with Neville was just casual, but it didn't feel that way now. If she slept with him now she would want many things that were just impossible for them to have together. If she went to the safe house, if her family was done being in this war she could think of having things with him, but not now.

Wanting to actually get to know Neville was the worst and best decision she'd ever made, second to this stargazing idea. She now realized this was too romantic and intimate. She had just been so excited that she justified it to herself that she was only doing something nice. Something nice for the boy that was saving Draco and soothing her worries after bad dreams. Something nice for her best friend.

You wanted something intimate. Don't be a child, take responsibility for what you did. You want this.

"I brought some hot chocolate," she informed, moving away from Neville's stares and getting the thermos. "I thought it would warm us up a bit."

"You just wanted liquid chocolate," Neville laughed.

"Always," Graces grinned, opening up the cylinder and pouring them each a mug. "It's delicious. Plus it's tradition. My parents always bring hot chocolate for stargazing."

"And you always sat on your dad's lap and Draco always sat on your mum's," Neville recited.

Graces smiled at Neville's memory.

"Until Draco decided he was a big boy," Graces murmured.

"And then of course I bet you followed suit."

"No way," Graces laughed. "I am a total daddy's girl, Longbottom. I was happy as a clam having my father hold me on his lap. I would lay against his chest and he would tuck me in his coat with him. I didn't even need a warming charm," Graces smiled, getting lost in the memory. "And he smelled good. My mom buys him this cologne from Greece, it's the only one that doesn't affect me allergy-wise. He's been wearing it since I was three, so yeah… he smells good," Graces trailed off, remembering that scent and missing her father.

"You are a daddy's girl," Neville chuckled.

"If you smelled my father you would understand," Graces grinned, tilting her head and looking at Neville.

"Oh yes, that will be the first thing that comes to mind if I see your father again," Neville deadpanned. "'Hello Mr. Malfoy, mind if I have a sniff? Your daughter told me that you smell good."

Graces immediately began laughing as she pictured her father's reaction to such a statement, causing her to mention that she should just buy a bottle for him.

"My gods that would be creepy," Neville shivered. "You want me to smell like your dad? I don't know what part of that I find more unnerving. You wanting me to smell like him or me smelling like Lucius Malfoy."

"I didn't think of it that way," Graces laughed. "Honest, I didn't."

"Sure, sure," Neville breathed, sending Graces a sly smile so she knew he was kidding. "Enough about your daddy issues, tell me about the constellations."

Graces grinned and leaned back against Neville as she showcased her favorite constellations and the stories her mother had told her about them. The night air chilled each of them, but neither cared. When she became cold she moved closer to Neville until she was eventually leaning between his legs and using the middle of his chest as a pillow as she continued to talk about the stars in the dark sky.

"I wish it was summer," Graces sighed. "Scorpius would be in the sky. That's Draco's favorite constellation. He loves that story."

"You could still tell me it." Neville suggested.

"No," Graces smiled, looking up at where the constellation would have been. "My mother never tells the story if the constellation isn't in the sky. You have to wait until it appears. That's what makes it special. Besides, I've told enough stories tonight."

Graces could feel the vibrations of Neville's laugh against her and trembled at the sound. She pulled the blankets up closer to her and tried to focus her mind on something else.

"It's so beautiful, isn't it? When I was little I used to sneak out of my room at night with my broomstick and try to touch it."

"I'll never know how you've managed to live this long when you do insane things like that with your broom," Neville muttered.

"Safety charms," Graces laughed. "My parents placed height restrictions on my broom. Broke my heart, I wanted to be up there with the stars."

"Maybe you should be an astronaut."

"A what?" Graces asked, turning and facing Neville.

"An astronaut," Neville repeated. "They're muggles that go into space. They've even been to the moon."

"You don't actually believe that rubbish do you?" Graces frowned. "Come on, Longbottom, they didn't go to the moon. None of that was true. A population of muggles pretended they were able to go to the moon to scare another population. None of it was real."

Neville frowned for a moment before patiently asking why she believed it couldn't be true.

"They're muggles," Graces said as though this were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And you believe because of that they couldn't go to the moon," Neville summarized, still looking at her serenely. Graces didn't know what to say. She had been told that they never went there. Her father told her it was just muggle propaganda, a scare tactic revolving around another mindless muggle war.

"If they went to the moon," Graces began slowly. "How did they do it? They don't have magic… so how did they do it? We haven't done it, so how did they?"

"It's-it's complicated, but they built this device, this spaceship and they did all kinds of math and figured out how to get this ship to the moon and back." Graces frowned and wondered how that could be true. Neville maintained it was, he told her they had photos and all kinds of proof, leaving Graces with this deep seed of doubt about what she had been told for so long. It still didn't make sense, she didn't understand how they did it without magic, but she couldn't get it out of her head.

"Graces," Neville said gently, turning her chin so she was looking at his eyes. "They did it. And they've done other amazing things too."

"Like what?"

"Uh, well, you know polio?" Graces became very still. She knew polio exceptionally well. Not many people knew, but her father needed his cane because of the virus. He had been just an infant when he contracted polio and his parents had caught it too late to prevent some damage. In their world they were able to treat polio through a series of potions, more often no damage was done because it was caught during the fever stage, but her father's polio virus was aggressive and her grandparents had been preoccupied and missed the early signs. By the time he was on the potions his leg had suffered irreversible damage. It wasn't something her father talked about, nor was it something that he allowed word to spread about.

"I know what polio is," Graces stated, thinking of her father's leg.

"Well, muggles they have this thing that prevents someone from ever getting it. They don't treat it, they prevent it all together. They've completely eradicated the virus in some countries."

"They prevent it," Graces whispered, frowning at the thought.

"Yes, as long as you have this vaccine you could be in direct contact with the virus and not get it," Neville explained, clearly excited that Graces seemed so interested.

"That's-that's incredible," Graces breathed, thinking of Octavian. "How do you get one of these?"

"St. Mungos has them, they often give you the vaccine when you're an infant. I have mine, so I'll never get polio." Neville paused for a minute and stared at her as though he was realizing something. "A lot of purebloods won't give their children the vaccine," Neville began slowly. "You probably don't have it. Actually, I know you don't have it. When the vaccination came your grandfather was one of the people not wanting to allow it into St. Mungos. They taught us about it in Muggle Studies. But since it's been here in our world, we don't really have polio epidemics except in pureblood circles."

"That doesn't surprise me," Graces deadpanned, laying back down on Neville and staring up at the stars not wanting to look at Neville as she contemplated everything she was raised to believe. If what Neville was saying was true her father could have never gotten polio. If her grandfather had allowed him that vaccine he would never have gotten it.

"It just doesn't make sense to me," Graces whispered. "How can they do that when they don't have magic?"

"We had a potion, a way to treat it when our children got it, so we didn't continue forward with trying to get rid of the virus. Our children weren't dying from it… theirs were. So they worked relentlessly for a way to completely prevent it when they realized they would never be able to treat it once someone got it. They're just as smart as we are, just they have different tools."

Different tools. Graces laid there wondering about this. She knew what electricity was, she had seen it. Those lights that the muggles had in their homes. She saw the lamp on Alethea's desk when they went to get her. She had used a telephone herself too. And she saw the things Dr. Harris did.

"Where are you?" Neville asked, pulling her closer to him and kissing her head.

"I'm in your arms," Graces smiled. "In your arms and under a blanket of stars wishing I had packed more hot chocolate."

Neville chuckled and then proceeded to dig through his right pocket for a moment before dangling a chocolate frog in front of her.

"Longbottom, you're a prince!" Graces exclaimed, taking the candy in hand.

"Does a prince get a kiss?" Graces grinned and turned around to kiss Neville chastly on the lips. Neville didn't seem to mind the small peck, if anything he seemed perfectly happy with it.

"What else do you have in your pockets," Graces asked curiously, reaching her hand in and seeing for herself causing Neville to laugh gallantly while playfully trying to push her away.

"Ah-ha! More chocolate!" Graces cheered. "Why do you keep chocolate in your pocket?"

"Cause they earn me kisses," Neville teased, tickling her sides so she would squirm.

Graces rolled her eyes at his antics, before relaxing back against his chest. It was as she was opening the other bar of chocolate that she realized she had grabbed a droobles wrapper from Neville's pocket as well.

"Do you have any gum?" Graces asked, closing her hand around the wrapper, so Neville didn't see. She didn't know why, but she had this odd feeling that this wrapper was significant.

"No, sorry. I don't really like gum."

"You don't like gum," Graces frowned, her hand still tight around the wrapper.

"Nope."

Graces bit her lower lip for a moment. She wasn't sure if she should ask. They had become much closer in the past few weeks. They talked a lot about their interests and things of that sort, but Neville still didn't share a lot of personal things with her.

He said that he would share with you. He's said before he considers you and him to be close. Just ask about the wrappers.

"Why do you always have droobles blowing gum wrappers on you, if you don't like gum?" Graces asked quietly, making sure to keep her eyes staring forward so she wasn't looking at Neville.

The longer Neville went without answering the more nervous she became. Finally she tilted her head so she could look up at him from where he was laying. Neville stared down at her as she looked up at him. He had a slight frown to his face, as he looked at her, but he offered no answers. Hesitantly, Graces opened her hand to show the wrapper which Neville gingerly took and placed back in his pocket.

"My mother gives me gum wrappers when I visit her," he explained, his voice completely even. "She's always done this. I have no idea why she does it. I think she has this idea that I like them or something, but no matter what when I visit she has gumwrappers for me."

"She gives you gum wrappers?" Graces frowned, unable to make sense of the action.

"She's mad," Neville whispered, a tinge of disgust in his voice. "Like I said I have no idea why she does it. It's just the actions of a mad woman."

"But you keep the wrappers," Graces clarified, a slight bit confused by Neville's callous words about his mother. "You keep them, even carry one around."

Graces watched Neville's adam's apple move down as he swallowed some of his emotions before he nodded.

"So… they must have meaning to you," Graces interpreted.

"There is no meaning," Neville murmured.

"Then why keep them?"

"Because I've been doing it since I was a child," Neville rasped. "I used to believe she did this because she loved me and it was her way of showing that. When I had a bad day I would—it's just an old habit," Neville finished tightly. "They don't mean anything. She just likes to give them to me."

"I'm sure she does love you," Graces offered, placing her hand on Neville's cheek. "You're her son. I'm sure she loves you very much."

"She doesn't know who I am," Neville stated bitterly. "She has no idea who I am. It's impossible to love someone if you have no inkling of an idea as to who they are."

"I go in and the first half hour of my visit is sitting very still and just smiling kindly at her, so she doesn't become skittish and try to hide. My gran she is fine with. My gran can sit there talking to her holding her hand, brushing her hair, even helping her dress so she is wearing something more presentable, but me? I have to sit quietly."

"What happens after you do that for a while?" Graces asked, a hole growing in the pit of her stomach as she watched Neville's kind eyes turn so vacant.

"She'll examine me," Neville said hollowly. "She-she will usually touch my face, my hair and want to look at my hands. She won't hold them, she just looks at them. When I was little she would do more. She treated me like a doll mostly. She wanted to hold me in her lap and she would play with my hair. My gran had to supervise her cause sometimes she would hurt me. Not badly, just pull my hair too much or begin to frighten me. When I was little I wanted to hug her and things like that and, well, sometimes I would try to and she would just flip out. Start screaming and running away. Sometimes she would even try and hurt herself and—" Neville paused and seemed to be trying to suppress a specific memory. "I just have to sit and not make any movements. She's very fragile. Sometimes I talk to her, but it's clear she's not really hearing what I say. She just continues on in her own mind. As long as I don't make any movements to touch her and keep my hands on my knees it's generally an incident free visit."

Incident free. Graces was sure she looked horrified, but Neville just sat patiently. He didn't seem inclined to address what he just told her in a new light to make it seem not as bad. This was what it was and Graces could tell he didn't want pretend it was any other way.

"When does she give you the wrappers?" she asked, unsure why she even wanted to know.

"At the end of the visit generally," Neville answered. "Sometimes she gives me one after examining me, like she is deeming me okay, but usually it's at the end of the visit. She kind of hides behind my gran as she gives it to me. Anyways, she gives me them."

"She hides behind your gran?"

"She doesn't know me," Neville repeated, giving Graces a look that urged her to understand that fact.

"What about your father?" Graces asked, praying that Frank Longbottom's condition was somehow better than his wife's.

"He's vacant," Neville sighed. "He just stares forward blankly. He doesn't interact at all. He needs round the clock care. He doesn't go to the loo, eat or do anything unless someone does it for him. He will just lay in bed staring at the ceiling for hours or sit in a chair staring forward. He's dead, but his body is alive."

Neville looked down to see Graces had covered her mouth in horror. He sat up and moved to touch her, but decided against it. This wasn't the kind of thing people wanted to hear about. The world wasn't ready to deal with the mentally ill. It was too much for the general population. Out of sight out of mind was their society's method of dealing with it. But it was too late now. He had told her and now she knew.

"Longbottom, I-I'm so sorry. I—"

"Don't be sorry," Neville sighed heavily. "This is just how it is. It's been this way my whole life."

"Still, they're your parents," Graces breathed. "I imagine it would be so hard to see people you love like that."

Neville nodded his head, but remained silent. He wondered if he could tell Graces this. If she would look differently at him for what he was about to say.

"I sometimes wish they didn't survive," Neville whispered, his whole chest vibrating with his admission. "I wish I could say it's because I think that it's what they would want, but it's not. It's what I would want." Neville took a moment and swallowed down a sob. He wanted to say this, he wanted to say it all out loud, but he didn't want to cry. "It's awful visiting them. Everything about it. Even the wing. People don't want to remember them or anyone else in that ward, so it's just depressing there. I hate it. Curtains separate us from the other patients. It's just all so awful. I hate going there. I hate it and then I hate myself for not wanting to go."

"They're my parents and I don't want to see them. I go, though, and I will go for the rest of their lives," Neville swore, wanting Graces not to see him as some monster that would abandon his family. "I just feel obligated to love them. I love them, but it's cause I feel like I have to. They're so—" don't say pathetic "—defenseless," Neville settled. "There will never be a day in my life that I won't have to worry about them."

"You know they did amazing things before, they helped a lot of people and fought in the war and now my gran has to raise hell just to ensure my father doesn't get bed sores. Or to make sure someone walks him on a daily basis, because the wing is so desperately understaffed. It gets no money really, and there is usually only one nurse on duty. And it's not her fault that my father has no muscle, or that he gets bed sores. She is busy chasing around crazy people and hunting down Lockhart when he escapes the ward!" Neville hadn't realized that his rant had turned into shouting, until Graces was holding his hands down and trying to soothe him.

Shame, embarrassment, anger and a whole onslaught of emotions began to all rage in Neville.

"I'm sorry," Neville sniffed. "I-I think I should go. It's late anyways."

"No, stay," Graces insisted. "You're upset."

"No, it's okay," Neville promised, feeling sicker by the moment. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Graces wined. "You're shaking. Stay."

"I'm cold," Neville lied. "More reason to go back inside."

"Don't lie to me," Graces pleaded. "I tell you all the time when I'm upset. Don't lie to me."

Neville nodded his head lowly and closed his eyes. Graces could tell he was on the brink of tears and for whatever reason he seemed to be internalizing all this as some flaw in himself. She was doing her best not to peek in his head, she had gone in a few times as he was talking and knew immediately it was a mistake. Neville would not be happy if she viewed his most intimate memories and feelings about his parents. And for some reason she had yet to find out, he hated himself a great deal for his feelings.

"It's okay," Graces whispered, gently running her hand behind the back of his head. "It's okay."

"No it's not," Neville spat. "You love your mother and father unconditionally. You worship the ground they walk on and I wish mine were dead. I'm a horrible son."

"No you're not," Graces cried, throwing her arms around Neville and holding him tight, despite him trying to move away. "You're not in any way a horrible son. It's not fair to compare. My parents were parents. Yours weren't. You have no reason to feel bad. They are a burden and don't you let anyone tell you different. It is what it is. Anyone who says that you shouldn't think of them that way is full of dragon dung."

"They were good people," Neville rasped. "They were good people and—"

"They were," Graces agreed. "They did a lot of great things, but you never knew those people. What they are now is what you know, because that is who they are now. This is who they have been to you as parents."

"It's not their fault though. It's not their fault and I—"

"And it's not your fault that this is how you feel about them," Graces snapped, pulling away and making Neville meet her eyes. "You said you loved them. Yes, it's out of obligation, but the point is you love them. They are not going to be left in there to rot away with no visitors, because their son is going to visit them. You have nothing to feel bad about. You are doing what you are supposed to do. Who else visits them? I bet the people that owe them their lives don't do what you do."

"I owe them my life," Neville deadpanned.

"No you don't. They chose to have you and they chose to have dangerous careers."

Graces knew she shouldn't, but she found herself peeking again into Neville's head as he sat there mulling over what she said. She saw a little boy excitedly putting a fey bracelet on a bed while a white haired woman hid in the corner. She watched as a young Neville sat on the other side of the room waiting for her to take it. It was heartbreaking even in memory. Alice Longbottom slowly tip toed to the bed and snatched the bracelet up to examine back in her corner. Neville was practically on his toes waiting for her to have a reaction, looking over at his gran again and again as though begging to be able to go over to his mother. But his gran shook her head and snapped her fingers for him to calm down.

Graces exited Neville's mind, not wanting him to sense her presence. She suddenly realized she couldn't do what she's been doing anymore. She couldn't shy away from Neville when things became too intimate between them. His whole life he had been made to wait patiently for affection, forced to sit quietly and wait for others. And that's what he was doing with her. He waited. He didn't demand the affection he wanted. He waited for her to give it to him. She always wondered why Neville stuck around despite her shying away and changing things between them, and now she knew. This was a normal thing for him.

I really need to figure out what I want, Graces thought, looking at Neville sadly. She had always known this wasn't enough for him, but she had convinced herself that what they had was fine. Neville said he was happy, but now that she knew more about what he faced with his mother she realized why he felt this was okay. This was just what he knew. She couldn't be someone doing that to him. They were either going to be friends or they were going to be more. It was as simple as that and she needed to make that choice. No matter what, she wanted to be his friend, but she couldn't continue kissing him and carrying on they way they had been. No matter what, they had to be kept a secret, and she wasn't saying she was going to ever formally court with him, but he needed something more honest. He deserved something more stable. What they were now was confusing and she worried that if all Neville's relationships were this way he would never demand a healthy one.

"Graces," Neville whispered. "I really want to be alone." Graces at once opened her mouth to protest, but Neville raised a hand and silenced her. "I need to be alone," he maintained. "I know you feel better when you have someone to comfort you, but I don't. I was raised to self-soothe and-and this just makes me feel more uncomfortable and I can't allow myself to feel what I need to feel with you right here. I just need to be alone."

"Why not with me here?" Graces asked, not willing to allow Neville to go.

"Because I can't," Neville said tightly. "I just can't. I'm sure when you were little you were held tight when you cried and your mother would murmur soothing words, so when you're sad now that's what you need to be comforted. And I do not mind in the least doing that," Neville said hurriedly. "But it's not what I need. I didn't really have that, so when I'm sad I just want to be alone."

"I don't care if you cry," Graces reassured, pleading with Neville to stay.

"I care," Neville declared pointedly, clearly trying to suppress his frustration. "I care a great deal. I don't want to sit here with you crying over my mummy and daddy like I'm a child."

"That's not at all what I'll think," Graces continued desperately.

"It's what I think!"

Graces moved away as Neville hurried to stand up. She felt like this was very similar to the time she and Draco tried to put Loki in a box. The bird did not want to stay in the box and Neville did not want to stay with her.

"I'm sorry," Neville blurted, adjusting his coat. "Tonight was wonderful, amazing even. I loved sitting here with you and hearing the stories and talking. I really liked it. I just-I'm having a hard time with this."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Neville murmured, looking back over at her clearly ashamed of everything that had happened. "I-I was going to tell you. I really was. In fact I told you tonight because I promised myself that the next time it came up I would be open with you. I-I should have waited. I wasn't ready."

"This is fine," Graces promised, standing up. "You don't have to be put together when you talk about this. It's fine."

It was clear Neville didn't view any of this as fine though.

"Please lay back down with me. Please." Neville again declined. He kissed her gently on the lips thanked her again for the evening and said he would walk her to her dorm. "Let me stay with you tonight," Graces blurted out, not at all thinking.

Neville frowned and the suggestion, but waited for her to continue.

"I-I," I'm an idiot… Such an idiot. Good job. What happened to really deciding? "I could stay with you in your dorm." Stupid. Stupid. STUPID!

"You're offering to sleep with me," Neville deadpanned, searching her eyes and seeming to find her hesitation.

"Well, I could just stay until you fall asleep," Graces offered, blushing already with her panic.

Neville let out a soft laugh and looked down for a moment before leaning in and kissing her sweetly.

"You are an amazing girl, Graces Malfoy," Neville said quietly, kissing her again for what seemed like good measure. "But I don't think you want that. It's very kind of you to offer though."

Graces opened her mouth to protest, but Neville put a finger against her lips.

"I'm going to stop you from telling me that you want this or some other nonsense like that. You feel bad, and I really appreciate that you want to make me feel better, but Graces you coming and laying with me for the night and then shying away because it frightened you will make me feel a lot worse."

"Like how when your mum shies away from you." Graces immediately, wished she didn't say anything. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Well I guess if I am going to poke fun of your daddy issues you get to mention my mummy issues," Neville interrupted offering her a wry smile.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know why I said that. I was just—"

"Graces, it's fine. You're wrong though. There isn't any connection with my relationships with you or anyone that is like the relationship I have with my mum, because quite frankly my mother and I don't have one."

Graces didn't feel like Neville believed what he was saying. If he really believed that him and his mother had no kind of relationship why did he keep the gum wrappers, why did he seem so ashamed of his feelings. She had a feeling that Neville cared more for his parents then he was willing to admit to himself.

"Do you think she misses you when you're at school and can't visit often?" Graces asked, not able to stop herself from letting this go.

"Sometimes, I think she recognizes me," Neville frowned, thinking back to memories. "She has no idea who I am and I can't just go up to her, but every once in a while I think there is some recognition that she's met me before."

"When she allows you to get close do you think she's happy you're there?"

"Yes."

"Do you miss them when you can't see them for awhile?"

"I think I miss the people I imagine they would have been everyday," Neville said slowly. "It took me a long time to realize that. I think I spent a good portion of my life viewing them as what I had been told they were, then one day I started viewing them as they are now. Who they were was taken. Who they may have been as parents is long gone now, I just have to accept things for how they are. I used to count down the days until I could see them, but now… Now I just feel guilty if I don't see them often… I don't know if I miss them in the conventional sense."

"But-but you do love them?" Graces asked, staring at Neville's kind eyes. "I mean you must. I remember you tried to fight with my brother when he made jokes about the insane at St. Mungos."

"I already said I loved them."

"I think you love them outside of the obligation, Longbottom," Graces said softly, placing her hand on his. "I can tell."

"Or you just want to believe that I'm not so callous."

"You're not."

Graces could tell Neville thought she was wrong, but he didn't correct her. He kissed her cheek and helped her up from the ground and quietly packed the blankets and the thermos. She disillusioned them and Neville took her hand and began leading her to the castle. Not a word was spoken until Neville kissed her goodbye at the opening to the Slytherin common room. She had offered one last time to go with him to his dorm, she knew him being in hers would be an awful idea, but Neville again declined.

Graces laid in bed and thought Neville's choice was for the best. In reality that would have been a very big mistake. She thought about what would have happened if she spent the night and knew without a doubt that she would have slept with him, something she still was unsure if she wanted. Now that she knew about his mother more, she felt that sleeping with him before she was ready to stay in that kind of relationship was doing both of them a great disservice. And yet, now she wondered what exactly she did want with Neville. She didn't want to be just friends, she wanted to be more, and she knew that in some way she always must have wanted more, but the problem now was how could they ever have more.

Draco was now front and center in her mind, followed closely by Thomas and Octavian. She would never in a million years allow them to be hurt. She knew she and Neville could never be openly together, court or marry, but she also knew that it was becoming harder to see where the lines were that separated him from getting under her skin. She didn't want Neville to be just for fun, but she also didn't want him to be too serious. It was such a fine line and while she knew it would be best to not walk the line at all, she found herself contemplating the odds of her being able to do it.

I thought it was about time Neville started opening up ;) I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Don't forget to follow/review!