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. Also to noone297 for all the help he provided on the French portion!
Special thanks to guest, bageltiger, char170217, DragonessUnderTheMountain, Snakespur, draconusmarauder, infinateconstellations, Pinksparkles, Cree, noone297, Relentless Revolver, GTH, Guest, pokegirl1005, Phoenix and guest.
I'm so sorry this chapter was so late. I gave this chapter to my beta a week late and he couldn't get to it until today because he's been in the middle of a big big move! So sorry to all of you sitting on the edge of your seat. I have no way of messaging guest reviewers and I just felt awful about not being able to answer your questions about why this wasn't being updated. The chapter was done, it was just waiting. The easiest way to contact me about this stuff is through the private message system, so feel free to message me! Trust me I don't mind at all. Hope you all enjoy the chapter!
Chapter 59
"That looks like it will be an interesting project," Draco said, looking over his sister's shoulder. Graces hummed a reply and continued to scribble some notes down, clearly a little too invested in what she was doing to really pay her brother any mind. "Will you be able to have it done in time?"
"With the amount of gold I am going to throw at it I will," Graces muttered, picking up a few other envelopes and rolling her eyes as she began dictating her replies. "Have you started yours?" Draco let his silence answer for him. "Mother will be very upset," Graces sang. "This is her favorite part of the Christmas season."
"You could do mine for me," Draco suggested, sitting down next to his better half and grinning.
"I can't. I'm already doing two this year. I can't do mine and yours. It would be too much."
"Why are you doing two?" Draco frowned, now taking a closer look at the invoices his sister had on the desk.
"Well, father can't very well be doing one, now can he? And as you are aware I now have that settlement, so I have this extra gold that I don't need. I figured I would put it to good use." Graces looked over at him for a moment, scoffing at him to stop pouting.
"I really don't have time for this this year," Draco pleaded, shaking Graces arm so that she had to stop writing her letter. "Please."
"I'm already doing all your homework," Graces protested. Draco could tell she was going to break though, his sister never was good at telling him no.
"It would take a lot of weight off my shoulders," Draco said softly, knowing that he had just closed the deal.
"I am extremely upset with you. This one was going to take up a huge portion of my time, my other one was almost done. I planned ahead and did it practically months ago. Now, I'm going to be stretched thin doing yours."
"I love you," Draco cheered, kissing her cheek. "You're the best."
"I expect a really ridiculously expensive Christmas present," Graces grumbled, angrily putting away her papers. "And I also expect you to decide what you want to be done. I refuse to do the whole thing for you."
"Just add to what I did last year." Graces made some sound of frustration causing Draco to quickly tell her he would think about it AND give her more coin for her own projects. This seemed to make her less upset and Draco breathed a sigh of relief when Graces went back to just muttering under her breath.
"Are you coming to breakfast before class?" she asked, though Draco was taking the question as more of an accusal with the snap that was in her voice.
"Yes." It was originally going to be a no, but Draco decided that it was best to not make his sister any angrier when she just agreed to do him a favor.
"Good, I'm sick of you skipping breakfast," Graces scolded getting up from the desk she was working at and swinging her bag over her shoulder. "And don't think I'm not aware you never sleep in your bed anymore."
"I'm sleeping."
"I don't believe you. You look like Lupin."
"Thanks," Draco deadpanned.
Graces eyed him for a moment before going on a long rant about how he was destroying her nerves and that if he didn't start taking care of himself she was going to make herself sick with worry. Draco nodded and made empty promises of getting more sleep and making it to more meals, but he knew there was no way he was going to be able to do any of what she wanted.
"Morning, Thomas," Draco greeted, taking a seat across from the younger boy, who nodded his greetings. "Pass the sausage, please."
"Draco, are you listening to me?" Graces demanded, taking a seat across from him.
"Not at the moment, no," Draco hummed, putting a few links on his plate. "I really hate being nagged."
Thomas snickered at Draco's words, causing him to get his arm pinched by Graces who gave him a withering glare.
"I want you sleeping, Draco," Graces screeched. "I am sick of having the same arguments over and over again." Draco rolled his eyes and said he was sleeping, but he would make sure to rest more in order to get his sister off his back. Graces didn't seem to believe him, but she allowed the subject to drop-be it for exhaustion or frustrating- before turning to Thomas and saying she was going to speak to the muggle about Octavian seeing a healer next monday.
"He's n-not sick," Thomas frowned.
"Don't talk without silencing charms around us," Graces reminded. "And no he's not, but I want to make sure he's adjusting well. Check-ups are very important. Also, I want him seeing our private healer. I don't like the one he has at St. Mungo's and I don't like the idea of his health records being there. Ours are kept private, except for here at Hogwarts where we allow disclosure. I think it would be best for Octavian's to be private as well."
Thomas looked over at Draco, clearly at a loss as to what was happening and why Graces was in such a mood, but Draco just shrugged and nodded for him to just go along with it.
"You know what, I think it's best I be the one with Octavian for his visit. Maybe he should come here again this weekend. I like both of you here anyways, maybe him coming here on the weekend should be regular, I can't get to you when you're at your home. I think I'll owl our healer to come here Saturday morning."
"H-here?" Thomas asked, his voice cracking. "You w-want Oct-tavian h-here? Again?"
Thomas quickly shut his mouth as Graces glared at him from her seat. Draco felt like he should help Thomas in some way, tell Graces the muggle or Octavian were perfectly capable of handling a check up, but after this morning he decided it best to stay on her sweet side.
"I'll owl the healer for you," Draco offered, shrugging his shoulders at Thomas' frustration.
"He's m-my s-son," Thomas mumbled, pushing his food around his plate.
"He's as much my son as he is yours," Graces clipped, taking a bite of her sausage. Thomas scowled at her statement and Draco even was at a loss for Graces' behavior. "He has no mother," Graces pointed out rolling her eyes. "I'm his godmother, so since he has no mother I am the one taking on the role."
Draco exchanged a look with the younger boy sitting across from him and hesitantly began approaching Graces on the subject.
"Graces, I know you love Thomas and Octavian both, but parenting with someone is very… intimate," Draco settled on, feeling exceptionally bad as Thomas turned bright red and buried his face in his hands. "And I think Thomas, while he does need your help, would rather he be the main and only parent…"
"I don't think Thomas is ready for that," Graces scoffed, clearly not caring what either boy thought or wanted. "Octavian adores me. We've bonded. A child needs a mother anyways and I want the job. It's settled."
"I'm sure in time Thomas will provide Octavian with a mother," Draco stated pointedly, causing Thomas to go from groaning in his palms to laying his forehead on the table.
"Oh yes, won't that be grand. Not only will Octavian have to wait till he is four to have a mother, but it will probably be some bimbo like Wendelin!"
Wendelin, who was sitting just a few feet down from them looked over at the sound of her name being in the same sentence as bimbo. Both Malfoy twins glared at her challengingly until she blushed and just looked away.
"She's doesn't even have a spine," Graces scoffed going back to her breakfast.
"Thomas, have you met Graces? Your child's mother," Draco deadpanned, knowing full well that this battle was lost. Thomas groaned and made a lude gesture at him before turning back to Graces and arguing about him having Octavian stay at Hogwarts on weekends. In the end Graces won. She listed off five benefits to every one of his complaints and she even offered to be the one to approach Snape about it all. Draco had no doubt that Snape wouldn't care so long as she promised to keep the child away from him, so it soon became settled that Octavian would be at Hogwarts on the weekends.
"You wanted him around magic more anyways," Graces pointed out, standing and picking up her bag.
"P-people are g-going to s-stare at m-me," Thomas groaned. "I'll b-be that k-kid with a k-kid."
"People already know, Thomas," Graces reminded sadly. "Octavian is a part of your life. You need to integrate him in it and not just leave to your home on the weekends and that be the extent of you being a father. You want other people to bond with him. It takes more than just one person to raise a child."
"I h-have y-you and D-draco and m-my aunt."
"You don't have me and Draco when he's at your home. We don't leave Hogwarts. This is better, Thomas," Graces promised, resting an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "And I'll help you out when he's here. It's going to be good for everyone. Now, I have to get to class. Don't worry about Snape and bring Octavian here for the weekend tonight."
Draco scowled as his sister dipped down and gave Thomas a quick peck on the cheek. He hadn't realized how affectionate she had become with Thomas and wasn't sure if he felt it appropriate. First she's basically claiming Octavian as her child and now she's being quite free with her affections and Thomas. It wasn't very like her. She didn't like giving affection out in the open. He stared at Thomas as Graces left and for the first time wondered what role she wanted with the kid.
"Thomas," Draco began sternly. "Nothing is going on between you and Graces, right?"
Thomas snorted out some of the pumpkin juice he was drinking and Draco took his moment of weakness as an opportunity to take a peek in his head.
"Right, good," Draco nodded. "Nice chat, Thomas. Don't forget to owl the squib to pack for Octavian's weekend since he will be here."
Thomas was left still sputtering to regain his breath, idly wondering if being this involved with the Malfoys was always going to be this complicated.
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Graces inwardly groaned as she saw Hannah over at their desk talking to Neville. Since Neville had "asked her out" and they no longer saw one another during the day outside of classes he had started spending more time with his friends. In some ways it was a good thing. His relationship with Hermione was now mended. He and his roommates always seemed to be having a good laugh. He and Luna regularly could be found in the courtyard reading together and talking… and then there was Hannah. Neville apparently felt the need to rekindle his friendship with the Hufflepuff as well, something Graces wished he had done without.
"That's great, Hannah."
Graces reminded herself to keep her cool as she approached Hannah and Neville talking.
"So you'll come?"
Come? Come where?
"Yeah, of course," Neville smiled. Graces held her breath from screaming her outrage at Hannah getting one of Neville's kind smiles and agreeing to go somewhere.
"Great!" Hannah cheered. "You know when it is, right?"
"You're in my way," Graces clipped rudely, slamming her books down on the table and glaring at the Hufflepuff.
Neville shot her a disapproving look before he himself moved so Hannah could just stand in his spot, causing Graces to glare at him angrily.
"Now-now, Malfoy, she's not in your spot. You have to play nice."
Graces gritted her teeth and began setting up the desk, pointedly not looking at Neville or Hannah as they talked.
"Anyways, I, umm, you and Ernie could meet you know. That way you won't have to sit alone."
"I don't think Ernie is my biggest fan at the moment," Neville pointed out awkwardly, referring to how angry the other boy was that he had chosen to ask Graces out over Hannah, one of his closest friends.
"I'll talk to him."
"I would rather sit alone."
"No, I'll talk to him."
Graces could tell from the silence that Neville was not keen on that idea and peeked up just in time to see him begrudgingly nod.
"Excellent!" Hannah squeaked, bouncing slightly so that her braided pigtails hopped a bit off her shoulders. "I better get to my desk. Talk to you later?"
Neville nodded and finally the other girl was gone. Graces fumed silently in her chair. She knew that today was definitely not the day to get upset with Neville, but she was having difficulty burying the feeling welling up in the pit of her stomach.
"You have nothing to be jealous about," Neville whispered, taking his seat and pretending to look through some notes.
"I'm not jealous," Graces snapped, deliberately unclenching her hands. "Jealousy is what someone feels when someone has something they want. Abbott does not have anything that I want. I'm possessive. There's a difference."
"Again, you have nothing to be worried about," Neville chuckled, placing his notes down and grabbing his book to hide his smile.
"Where are you going with her anyways?" Graces accused angrily.
"She invited me to the holiday choir performance," Neville explained, turning and watching Graces for a reaction. "She apparently got a solo and invited me. I agreed to go because she is my friend and because I was already planning on attending considering a certain Slytherin is also in the choir." Graces was silent for a moment as she realized that Neville was in reality going for her. "I will so enjoy hearing you sing something besides Madonna."
"You shut your mouth about Madonna," Graces quipped, trying hard not to smile at him. "I refuse to hear your blasphemy so early in the morning." Neville grinned and then faked a bit of a coughing spell to cover his laugh. It felt good that Neville was going to be there. She hadn't expected him to come to her choir performance, and certainly was not going to ask, but now that she knew he was coming she felt really excited.
"Do you have a solo?" Neville asked, facing the front of the room and going back to his more stoic demeanor.
"A duet with Blaise," Graces informed, mirroring Neville's action of facing forward. "And I play the piano for the concert. Draco used to do that. He's a better player than me, but he's dropped out of choir this year. Abbott's solo is a muggle song so I didn't try for it. Wouldn't be appropriate," Graces added.
"I'll be sure to sit close to the piano then."
Graces looked down to try and hide her pleasure at the thought of Neville coming and sitting near her.
"You do a lot of duets with Zabini, don't you?" Neville asked, trying to be casual.
Graces shrugged, but had an idea of where this was going.
"I mean you two had a duet on Halloween, you know during the ceremony," Neville continued, clearly wanting more of an answer. "It's just interesting that you two always seem to get solos together."
"He has a very good voice," Graces smirked. "I'm sure you've noticed."
"I have… nice voice, good looks, charming—"
"Why, Longbottom, I had no idea you fancied Blaise."
Neville blushed crimson, before muttering that that was not what he was saying.
"I know what you were saying and it was just as ridiculous."
Neville narrowed his eyes at Graces breathless' laugh and for a moment her silver eyes met his and he suddenly felt silly for even beginning to feel jealous. For the rest of the class they remained silent and fell back into the roles that the rest of the school expected of them. Graces snapped at him in class when he tried to help her with the soil and he got all tangled up with his words when trying to defend his actions. She groaned when Professor Sprout announced they would be doing another elaborate assignment that required them to check their plant on the weekends and Neville just sat quietly pretending to feel awkward.
It didn't bother Neville in the slightest though, because he knew that Graces was happy to be spending time with him outside of the night and that this weekend work would allow them precious hours to be together. And he also knew that after sunset and when the rest of the castle went to sleep they would be alone together in the barn.
"I'm going to be late tonight," Graces whispered, gathering her things to leave. "I'll be there though."
"Why are you going to be late?"
"Octavian."
Neville wanted to ask more, but before he could Graces was leaving for her next class and Hannah and Hermione had came over to walk to theirs. He hid his disappointment and instead discussed with Hermione the kind of fertilizer to use for her and Hannah's project. He was just about to enter his Muggle Studies class when a first year Ravenclaw girl stopped him and handed him a letter from Professor Slughorn.
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Graces tried to muffle another one of her screams as she laid on the cold table in the Potions classroom. If the potions master cared though his face showed no signs of it. He continued to carefully apply the salve on her torso. Graces could feel her skin bubbling and hissing from the salve, it was ten times worse than the salve used for the dragon scales. This was a whole different kind of burn and when Snape smoothed the skin to bring down the scarring it hurt so much she would shake.
"All this for vanity," Snape sneered, taking a damp cloth and pressing it to the area he just finished. Graces had a retort, but kept it to herself. Snape was after all doing this for her and Merlin knew he didn't have to. Even the salve he was using was his own personal brew, she looked at his dark eyes from where she was laying and nodded to his command.
"How much more?" she asked, taking a gulp of air and trying to regain herself.
"Tonight? An hour more, but it will not all be healed until February… maybe longer." Snape turned and began getting ready to apply the next bit of salve to her abdomen. Graces watched as he hunched his back over a book and made a few notes on how she was healing.
"Thank you, for doing this," Graces breathed, noting the way the older man stilled. "I know you don't have much time these days and-and I just wanted you to know I appreciate this." Graces knew he heard her, but Snape didn't give any indication of it and instead slowly began tracing her next long scar. This one hurt worse than the others before and Graces gagged as she smelled her flesh bubbling.
"Breathe through it," Snape commanded, no trace of sympathy coming to his voice as he continued on in applying the salve. "I would think by now your occlumency skills were good enough to put thoughts of pain away."
"Haven't mastered the skill," Graces choked, closing her eyes and trying to do as instructed.
"Because you are too focused on what is happening now," Snape drawled. "Think of something else. Goals, memories things to bring you away from this. Clear your mind."
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because I don't want you to throw up on my robes."
"No," Graces panted. "Why are you trying to heal my scars at all. I didn't ask, you offered."
"I wanted to see if this salve would work," Snape said smoothly. "I have not had the opportunity to test it on any truly gruesome scars." Graces flushed at the word gruesome, but maintained her eye contact with her godfather. She had a feeling it was more than that or maybe she just wanted to believe it was more. She found herself wondering if Snape felt bad for what happened, if he in some odd way blamed himself. She remembered the night he came to check on her the way he reached to touch her as she slept.
"I wish things were different between us," Graces whispered, remembering only one time where Snape had actually acted as a Godfather. "I wish we were more like family than strangers."
"You wouldn't want a half-blood in your family," Snape murmured bitterly, Graces' words clearly having no affect on his own feelings.
"I would want you." Snape paused and sat back giving her his full attention. Graces all of the sudden felt very exposed laying on a table half naked with her professor, but she didn't shrink away from him. "I'm sorry… for the things I've said about you… about your blood status. I know you can read minds and I'm sure you've seen what I was thinking before and-and I'm sorry for calling you a coward. I didn't know you were the one that prevented Thomas and Octavian from being killed in the first place."
"I do not care what silly little girls think of me," Snape snapped.
"I'm sure you don't," Graces quipped. "But I'm still sorry for it. I was wrong and I'm sorry."
There seemed to be a great amount of distrust between Snape and her, but Graces did her best to seem as sincere as possible. In the end nothing else was said and Snape went back to treating her. When the last cool cloth was applied she gasped in relief.
"You may dress," Snape pointed out coldly, turning his back to her as she grabbed her blouse. "Keep the cloth on for an hour and make sure to shower right when you remove it. Cold water only and no soap."
"I remember," Graces nodded.
"Next month I am going to start working on the color distortion, it shouldn't hurt, but it's not a pleasant feeling. We will do that on separate days from when we do the salve."
Graces nodded despite knowing that Snape couldn't see her with his back turned.
"I think it's best for Octavian to be here on weekends. I don't like Thomas being away from Hogwarts. It's safer here and-and it's important that Octavian is exposed to magic and has a strong bond with Draco and I."
Graces had been babbling so much she hadn't noticed when Snape turned around to look at her. The blonde paused at his expression and held her breath waiting for a reply.
"So long as I don't have to be around the little brat it's fine. The moment anyone complains about him though the child will not be allowed here. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal," Graces breathed, surprised by how easy that was.
Snape stared at her for a moment before taking a seat so that he was eye level with her.
"Do you know what you agreed to?" Snape asked, staring into her silver eyes. "The night when you went with Thomas do you know what you agreed to."
"I agreed to take the mark."
"You agreed to kill."
Graces felt something grip her insides, but she stayed still too afraid to say anything that would betray her.
"You are going to kill people and I am having a difficult time believing you are capable of doing it," Snape said coldly. "So you will be killed."
"I can kill people," Graces rasped, a lump growing in her throat.
"I doubt it," Snape sneered, standing up and putting away his supplies. "You're all weepy eyed over a baby and a small boy."
"Why do you take compassion as a sign of weakness? Why is loving someone a shortcoming? Loving that baby and Thomas is the only way I will be able to do what I need to do. I will do it because I love them. The same way Draco is tearing himself apart because of his love for me. Love is strength." Graces frowned for a moment as something dawned on her. "What makes you able to do the things you do?"
"I believe in what I am doing," Snape proclaimed.
"I believe too."
"Do you?"
There was something so strange in the way Snape asked that Graces began to feel nervous. Snape was a death eater, he was in the Dark Lord's circle and he was the last person she needed doubting her loyalties.
"Of course I do," Graces hissed. "How could you doubt that?"
"You apologised to me."
"Because I respect you and I made a harsh judgment of you without knowledge."
Snape scoffed at Graces' answer.
"You should take Montague's offer," Snape finally said after he was collected and ready to leave. "I hate to think I am wasting my time mending a corpse."
"I'm perfectly capable of being with the Dark Lord's following. You yourself said I was talented."
"When have I ever called you talented?" Snape scowled.
"Fourth year. I was looking at a magazine with Pansy in study hall and you ripped it away from me and said that you hoped that someone so talented wouldn't waste her brains on fashion. Then you burned my magazine, but you did call me talented."
Snape scoffed, but didn't argue with Graces' recollection of that day. Snape was never really one to give out compliments, but through her years in his class she knew he found her to be bright.
"You are talented," Snape drawled slowly. "But you're not cut out to kill people. You can lie to yourself, Miss Malfoy, but you can't lie to a legilimens."
"There was a time I thought you could amount to something. A time where I believed that you were well on your way to a promising future, but as of lately I have realized that the only thing you will ever do is take care of screaming children or be entombed." Graces ignored the harsh words from the man in front of her and stared into his dark void eyes.
"I feel very sorry for you," she whispered after a moment, reaching her hand out and cupping Snape's face with a gentle hand, a kindness she was sure he had not experienced in decades. "Goodnight, Professor."
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"Thomas," Graces whispered, gently nudging the younger boy awake. "Let's put Octavian in the bassinet, huh?"
Thomas yawned and awkwardly sat up, still holding the sleeping babe close to his chest so as not to wake him. Graces kept a steady hand on Octavian as well for good measure should Thomas' movements jostle him awake. Thomas didn't even mind the extra caution, he was so thoroughly exhausted he wouldn't be surprised if he accidently lost his grip on Octavian.
"Thanks," Thomas murmured, swaddling Octavian carefully in his crib.
"Of course."
Thomas watched as Graces leaned down to the child and kissed him sweetly on the head, her lips lingering on the baby soft skin. She was a good choice as the godmother. He never doubted that she should have the title. Everything else he second guessed himself on, but not Graces. She was perfect. Octavian hadn't seemed to remember her when he first came back to the castle. Graces had ran over and immediately wanted to hold him, but Octavian had clung to Thomas' cloak, content with him holding him, an act that seemed to break Graces' heart.
It had been a while. Thomas now understood Graces' demands for Octavian to be there on weekends. Octavian couldn't go weeks without seeing Graces nor should she go weeks without seeing him. The last time she had seen Octavian was when she asked for his portkey to hold him in the middle of the night while he slept, and the more Thomas thought about it the more awful he felt for not offering to bring Octavian to her.
"I'm s-sorry, I d-didn't b-bring him b-before," Thomas said gently, walking Graces out of the dorm room. "You w-were r-right. I w-want him c-comfortable with you. It's b-been too l-long."
"Yes, it has been," Graces signed, closing her arms in front of her. "Luckily he didn't take too long getting comfortable with me. Maybe he remembers something of me from before. It just took him a bit." Thomas nodded sadly and tried to rack his brain for something more to say. "The healer will be here at 10:30 tomorrow."
"I have Q-quidditch p-p-practice at that t-time," Thomas frowned, already dreading telling Graham that he couldn't make it.
"Oh, I can just take him without you," Graces offered, waving her hand casually. "It will be fine. It's just a check up. It's more to establish Octavian as one of her patients, not because anything is really wrong. You don't need to worry about being there."
"Y-you s-sure? I f-feel like I sh-should b-be there."
Graces laughed before declaring that it was truly fine. Thomas felt a bit silly being so concerned over such pointless appointment and thanked Graces for taking care of it.
"It really isn't a problem," Graces promised. "But the healer did send some forms over with the appointment time. It would be a great help to me if you filled them out. A lot of this stuff I don't know, like what formula he's on, his sleeping habits and parents' medical history." Thomas took the forms and nodded that he would have them filled out. "Excellent," Graces proclaimed, before pausing for a moment. "There-there's a form in there asking about who else can make decisions for Octavian. Did you want to list your Aunt or—"
"I'll b-be p-putting b-both y-you and m-my aunt," Thomas informed, knowing that Graces was hoping to be listed. "I also p-plan on m-making you a p-portkey to my home… You should see Octavian wh-whenever you w-want," Thomas murmured quietly. "J-just b-be sure to k-keep it t-to yourself th-that you h-have it."
Graces stilled at Thomas' words, her mind already racing to all the things this portkey meant. She could get Octavian out of that mansion in a moment if she had to, she could be there in his nursery and apparate to Neville's safe house in less than a minute. It was perfect.
"Thank you," she whispered, putting those thoughts to rest and smiling happily. "Well, I better be off to bed. Good night, Thomas."
"N-night."
Graces waited until Thomas closed the door before disillusioning herself and heading out to meet Neville. It wasn't until she was outside, filling her lungs to the brim with the cold air, that she noticed how confined she felt in the castle these days. It was like a pressure was constantly on her chest and it wasn't until she broke free of the castle that she could breathe easily.
She began walking over to the stables enjoying the crunch of her shoes against the snow. She wasn't in a rush, despite the fact that she was already pretty wait. She knew Neville would be there and she honestly needed a bit more time to figure out how to approach him about his parents. He didn't seem to be the least bit upset, but she didn't feel like that meant anything. Neville had apparently spent his whole life pretending to be fine when he wasn't.
By the time Graces entered the barn Neville was fast asleep on some hay, the book she had given him a week ago resting on his chest as music from his radio played in the background. She sat beside where he was laying and watched him sleep as she untied her coat and slipped it off. She had deep affections for Neville now, there was no denying it. She could feel it in her heart. She felt for him. He was more than her friend, and yet she wasn't able to bring herself to voice this. She needed to decide though, and she knew she had to decide quickly. Would they be friends and would she maintain the boundaries of friendship for both their sakes? Or would they be lovers, free to carry on their romantic affair for as long as it was possible. The second would hurt both of them in the end, but she felt unable to just casually throw it away.
"Well, look who finally showed up," Neville yawned, opening his eyes only for a moment before shutting them again tiredly. "I was beginning to wonder if you would come."
"What would you have done if I didn't?" Graces asked, brushing the fringe from Neville's forehead so his hair was parted.
"Slept here for the night and hoped."
Graces' smiled at this, before commenting on how light of a sleeper Neville was.
"I'm only a light sleeper when I'm laying on hay, in cold December, in a finely lit barn and music is playing," Neville chucked, now opening his eyes and sitting up. "It's kind of hard to sleep soundly under the circumstances."
"Speaking of the music," Graces breathed, "not what I expected."
"Excuse me?"
"I take it this is your taste in music?" Graces questioned, not bothering to wait for Neville to answer. "It's not what I expected."
Neville stilled and seemed to be listening for what was currently playing before protesting the song was good.
"Just a bit… somber," Graces decided, turning her eyes back to Neville and away from the room. "Edgy even."
"Edgy," Neville deadpanned, giving Graces a pointed look.
"Yeah, edgy," Graces grinned. "Are you some dark, twisted soul, Mr. Longbottom?" Graces asked, poking Neville's side and causing him to squirm. "Are you much deeper than I thought? Maybe this is why you dislike my music so, it's too happy for you."
"Okay, clearly you do not like The Verve."
"I didn't say that."
"So you do like it?" Neville challenged, stopping short from changing the station.
"I don't know," Graces shrugged. "Sounds like an awful way to look at life."
Neville smirked at her statement, before kissing her on the cheek and turning the dial on the radio.
"Let's find something we both can enjoy then, shall we?" Graces nodded and watched as he turned through the channels passing songs she liked and promising her better. After a few more turns Neville seemed to find a station and song he felt agreeable and the room was filled with a man's silky deep voice. "Come here," Neville ordered gently, pulling Graces up from the hay and into his arm for a slow waltz.
"You know a gentleman asks," Graces pointed out, moving into Neville's body.
"I wasn't willing to take no for an answer," Neville smirked, holding her tight as he twirled her around, his hand firm on her lower back.
Graces smiled at Neville's answer and followed his lead as he slowly took her this way and that. He seemed so content, like last night had never happened. It made Graces wonder if she should say anything at all.
"Are you okay?" she finally asked, too worried to forget. "I know last night you were—"
"Graces," Neville said gently. "I don't want to talk about last night. I want to hold you and twirl you around for a few hours. Last night is over."
"You don't want to talk about it at all?"
"No, I want to be happy," Neville stated firmly. "And right now I am exceptionally happy. Let's not talk about things we have no power to change."
"You just seemed so sad," Graces murmured lamely.
"I'm not sad now," Neville reminded, giving her a playful dip. "I actually had a very, very good day and it looks like I am about to have a fantastic night."
"What was so great about your day?" Graces giggled.
"Well, I had Herbology where I got to work with the most gorgeous witch." Graces scoffed at the flattery, but waited for Neville to continue. "It looks like the project in class will be interesting and best of all will need to be worked on during the weekends, so more time with the gorgeous witch AND after class I got an invitation to a Christmas party hosted by Professor Slughorn."
"Did you now?" Graces asked, inwardly cringing.
"Yeah, I did," Neville smiled proudly. "I'm sure you will get an invite as well."
"I doubt it," Graces deadpanned.
"Well, why not? You're smart, talented and—"
"And the daughter of a death eater," Graces finished. "Trust me, I won't be getting an invite. Slughorn won't want to be mixing his company like that."
"Well, I, uh, do get to bring a date," Neville said shyly, slowing down their dance so they could look at one another. "Maybe—"
"No," Graces declined firmly. "You know that just can't happen."
"Well, what if we figured it out. Like when I wore those Slytherin robes for your game, maybe we could say you lost a bet or—"
"Longbottom," Graces broke in, her voice taking on a slightly kinder hint. "It can't happen. I'm sorry, but I'm sure you will have a grand time anyways."
"I just was hoping you would be there," Neville sighed. "It would be nice seeing you dressed up, have dinner together. Not to mention I feel more comfortable when you're around," Neville added quietly.
"You're going to be fine," Graces comforted. "You worry too much. It will all be fine. Just make sure to highlight your best traits. Talk about your small business with selling muggles flowers and your apprenticeship with Professor Sprout. It will be a good opportunity for you. Slughorn has a lot of connections."
"You didn't seem to want me to be so concerned with what Slughorn thought a month ago."
"I don't," Graces said pointedly. "I'm not a fan of the man, but my opinion of him aside you should always seize opportunities." Neville nodded solemnly, before tentatively asking if Graces would have wanted to go with him if she could. "If you weren't a dirty blood traitor that aided in incarcerating my father then I would be more than happy to go with you, Longbottom," Graces smiled, leaning in and kissing Neville chastly on the lips.
Neville seemed quite pleased with her answer and got lost in his own head for the next few moments until he looked up at her again, clearly another question on his mind.
"What would you wear?"
"What would I wear?" Graces exclaimed, laughing at such a silly question. "Why does that matter?"
"Curious," Neville shrugged. Graces wasn't willing to take such a lame excuse and kept prodding for a real answer.
"It's silly."
"I already think you silly," Graces scoffed. "Now tell me."
Neville blushed, but slowly seemed to muster up his courage.
"I-well- I like to just think about things… Like if things were different and I—" Neville sighed, apparently at a loss for how to explain himself without being more ridiculous. "I like to think about taking you out. Actually dating," he further explained. "And well, I was thinking about what it would be like if I could take you to the Christmas party and I was trying to imagine what you would wear."
Graces stopped dancing and stared at Neville wordlessly.
"It's stupid, forget I said anything," Neville blushed, looking as though he wanted to hide. "Let's just forget I—"
"I would wear an evening dress," Graces cut in, her eyes not moving from his. "Not one that was too formal, I would look quite out of place, but an evening dress all the same. Probably something long, and dark, open enough to show off my collar, but plain enough to not take away too much attention. Simple and elegant."
Neville nodded and then awkwardly started dancing with her again. Graces wondered if he just needed something to do so he could hide his embarrassment. She answered, but Neville still seemed to feel awkward.
"What would you wear?"
"Oh, I don't know. Nice shirt and pants."
"What about your formal robes? Or would your godmother make you something?"
"Oh, I wouldn't bother her with that."
"If my godmother was Madame Blanc I would bother her weekly." Neville laughed at her statement but insisted he would leave her be. "Would you let me dress you?" Graces asked curiously.
"I think I would enjoy it more if you were undressing me."
"You stop it," Graces scolded playfully. "I'm serious. Would you let me pick out your clothes?"
"If you really wanted."
Graces hummed at the thought and let her mind wander to what she would have Neville wear.
"I love dancing with you," Neville thought aloud as the song changed to something more fast paced. "You're so… movable."
"Movable?" Graces laughed.
"Yeah, if I want to turn you, sweep you, anything it's like you sense it and move into it like water moving into a stream."
"I let you lead," Graces giggled. "That's how dancing should be."
"Well, I like that. That you let me lead."
"Your other dance partners didn't?"
"Not really," Neville laughed gallantly. "Ginny seemed to want to lead, Luna likes to do her own thing and Hannah was so nervous she resisted everything. If I had danced with you at the Yule Ball I think I would have been much happier."
Graces giggled and for a moment she teased the sandy haired boy holding her and pretended to mess up a few steps. Neville just laughed at her antics and they spent a few minutes being awful dancers before falling back into the dance. She had become so comfortable with Neville in the weeks that had passed, dancing with him was as easy as when she danced with Draco. They had their own sort of rhythm. She allowed him to lead, of course, but she also sensed what movement he was going to do next. Even if she didn't know the song she almost expected each turn. He was a charming dancer, not nearly as precise and talented as Draco, but he wasn't at all bad and he made up for his lack of precision easily in they way his movements flowed into the other.
"I like this song," Graces smiled.
"So you like Mr. Armstrong, huh?" Neville chuckled, moving his hands from such a formal waltz, and placing her closer to him so that she could rest her head in the crook of his neck.
Graces hummed a reply and closed her eyes as she laid against Neville's chest, too happy and content for words. She wished she could bottle this moment. Bottle it up tight and live in everyday for the rest of her life. It would be an existence filled with contentment.
"Give me a kiss before you leave me and my imagination will feed my hungry heart. Leave me one thing before we part. A kiss to build a dream on." Graces smiled quietly as Neville continued to whisper the lyrics against her head, holding her so close to him it felt more like they were embracing rather than dancing.
She was swooning. That was the only word she could think to describe it. She was being taken away in this moment. Her head felt light and dizzy and under the calmness of the moment there was a thrill of excitement. Things had changed so much in the past few weeks, changed to the point where Neville didn't need to sweep her off her feet, because she was already carried away.
"I didn't know you sang," she whispered, feeling the need to let the moment stay quiet, but needing to say something to keep herself somewhat grounded.
"I didn't know whispering lyrics counted as singing," Neville chuckled.
"Don't stop," she sighed.
"It's almost over," Neville informed, kissing her head sweetly.
"I don't care. I just want to hear you sing," Graces requested lightly, wanting to hear Neville's low voice continue on in the song as she pressed her ear against his chest and listened to his heart.
"Weaving romances Making believe they're true. Oh give me your lips for just a moment and my imagination will make that moment live. Give me what you alone can give a kiss to build a dream on."
It took Graces a few moments to realize that they hadn't been dancing. At some point they had stopped and were just standing in the middle of the room holding each other. She didn't want to move and break the spell. She just wanted to continue basking in the warmth of Neville's embrace and the smell of him being so near. She knew that once this magic was broken they would say their goodbyes and go without one another until dark came again.
It was not planned, Graces in no way thought out her actions as she pulled Neville down to kiss her. If anything she felt as though her actions were no longer her own. She stood there on her toes kissing Neville with all the sensuality a woman could have, her heart pounding in her chest from the fever overtaking her senses. She had hoped Neville would match her kiss, but instead he pulled away cautiously.
"It's late," Neville murmured, his hand moving up into her hair. "You didn't sleep well last night. I can tell. You should go so you can take that potion and get some rest."
"Yeah, I should." Even after she said it she couldn't bring herself to move. She stayed still against his chest, praying he would be the one to move away, but knowing that he wouldn't. His hand cradled her head to his chest and she could hear his heart beat slow in contentment.
"You know you can stay right?" he whispered hopefully.
"I want to, it's just," Graces hesitated. "There's a lot of things I've been thinking about lately and I just don't—"
"If you're not ready you're not ready."
"I want to," Graces whispered, her mind focused on Neville's proximity. "I really want to, I just can't make my mind be silent long enough to go through with it."
Neville paused for a moment, rolling her words around in his own head, before tilting her chin up so she was looking into his eyes. A whole sea of possibilities were behind his irises. She could kiss him now and allow him to take them where they both so desperately wanted to go or she could move them there herself or she could wait and really make her decision as to what she was going to do.
"I want you to stay," Neville said gently, brushing his fingers against her cheek. "I so badly want you to stay, but the thing is if you stay I know we will do something you'll regret. If you still have things you want to sort out you shouldn't stay."
"Because if you stay I swear I'm going to kiss you and I won't be able to stop kissing you until we're both on this floor half naked from doing something you weren't ready to do. And there are days I could restrain myself, days where I could be a gentleman, but today is not one of those days," Neville sighed, dropping his hand from her face and closing his eyes. "All those other nights I had no problem just kissing you senseless, but I know that won't be an option if I kiss you now. If I get the chance I'm going to touch you and Merlin knows I'm going to want you to touch me."
"That doesn't exactly make me want to leave," Graces thought out loud, remembering how good it felt when Neville touched her.
"I don't exactly want you to choose to leave," Neville whispered huskily, moving her up against a wall. "My skin is crawling to touch you. Half of my day I spend fantasizing about your legs wrapped around my waist and the other half is spent restraining myself." Graces shuddered as she felt Neville's hands move firmly on her hips. "I know you said you want something healthy," Neville murmured, his forehead on hers. "You wanted to get to know me and all of that goodness. And I don't want to ruin things. Take a step forward only to take two steps back. So I'm asking are you ready for this?"
"No," Graces whispered, closing her eyes and suppressing her own disappointment. "No, not yet."
Neville nodded and took a step away from her so that he wasn't tempted to touch her.
"Can I ask what it is that is stopping us?"
Graces worried her lip and thought about if she should answer that. If she should tell Neville she was trying to decide if she was going to actually going to be with him, even if it was in secret, or that she may decide that they were only to be friends. No kissing, nothing crossing any lines of boundaries.
"I'm sorry, no," she decided, not wanting him to go through the torture of knowing that the option of her being with him was on the table. It wouldn't be right if she chose just to be friends.
"Then let's get you to bed," Neville sighed, picking up her cloak from the hay and helping her put it on. Graces wanted to say something, but Neville appeared to deep in thought and Graces was too much of a coward to break it. Slowly they went through their routine of making themselves invisible and began walking to the dungeons hand in hand. It was different this time though. It felt so much emptier than before.
Graces knew then that she needed to decide. She couldn't just wait for things to make sense, because they never would. She needed to make a choice. It didn't have to be tonight, but it was going to be within the next week, she wasn't going to do this to Neville anymore. She was so deep in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed Nott coming up behind them, and the other boy would have slammed right into her if Neville hadn't pulled her into him and held her against his body as the other boy said the password for the dungeons.
She moved to go in behind him, that way she could enter their common room before hurrying up stairs, but Neville yanked her back forcefully.
"Do you not see the blood on his robes?" he hissed angrily. "You wait."
Graces eyes trailed to the sleeves of his shirt and sure enough there was blood spatter. When Nott was finally gone, she was left standing outside her common room with no idea if she could go in or not.
"We're going back to the barn," Neville decided, taking her by the hand and dragging her forward. "I don't want to risk you entering the common room and him finding you."
"We could just wait a bit and then I could enter," Graces pointed out, feeling that a night in the barn would not be the best thing for her and Neville.
"I am not letting you go in there, Graces. He's dangerous. He could—"
"He couldn't do anything in the common room, if I yelled out the whole house would be up and—"
"Stupefy and Silencio. That would be all he would need. No."
Graces was about to protest, pointing out that one he could not see her, two she was a capable witch and three that he would need to be able to actually hit her with those spells, but before she said any of this Draco was now the one walking down the dungeons towards the Slytherin common room.
"Surely, you would feel more comfortable if I went in behind Draco," she whispered already moving to follow her brother.
Neville didn't answer, but he did let go of her hand. For a moment Graces turned around to try and find Neville, hoping to still have their usual kiss good night, but he appeared to be gone. Even when she reached out she couldn't feel him around her. Not wanting to miss her opportunity she hurried along to catch up to her brother. Graces barely made it through the portal after Draco and she was going to just hurry to her own bed, but the thought of Nott being upstairs with her brother made an uneasiness clench firmly in her gut. She slowly followed Draco, mindful to not make so much as a peep when she entered the room with him. Sure enough Nott was awake. He was hunched over on his bed repairing some burns on his neck from doing god knows what.
"Malfoy," he greeted, placing his wand down peacefully.
"Nott."
"I have the mead you needed."
Graces scowled. Why would Draco ask Nott for a favor?
"Thanks." Draco moved forward and took the older bottle tentatively.
"Your aunt thought it best if she just give it to me to give to you. She didn't want to take the risk of being seen in the middle of the night at Hogsmeade."
"I see," Draco hummed, his posture tight as he stared at Nott's bloody shirt.
"Your aunt seems to like me."
"My aunt is insane," Draco deadpanned. "And she probably isn't aware that you hurt her sister."
Nott flinched at Draco's harsh words, but didn't turn away.
"Now Draco, what was I supposed to do? I was told to punish you for your failures and you snaked your way out of being punished."
"It's not my fault you're so pathetic you can't do an unforgivable."
"Oh, I can now," Nott grinned darkly, standing up from where his bed. "I can do all three now. Maybe I should go have another talk with your mummy? October seems like so long ago; I'm sure the Dark Lord would agree that I should catch up with her. I mean it's now December and the task isn't complete."
"You keep away from my mother," Draco threatened, holding his wand out to the other boy's chest.
"Temper-temper," Nott tutted, tapping Draco's wand with his finger. "You know it really would be best for us all if you realized that being my friend is better than being my enemy."
"I believe you were the one that demanded the alliance be off," Draco reminded, thinking back to the night when Nott cornered Graces in the bathroom and rage slowly seeping into his veins.
"With a little atonement on your sister's part and on yours, I would be willing to revisit the discussion."
"I'm unwilling," Draco informed icily, walking to his bed. "Thanks for delivering the mead."
Graces turned to where Nott was standing keeping her wand out in case the other boy decided to send a hex her brother's way while his back was turned, but Nott just sat back down and continued tending to his wounds. For the first time Graces realized that her brother slept in close proximity to a monster and not only was he comfortable enough to sleep there, but the sight of Nott's blood stained shirt didn't faze him. Not willing to leave her brother, she padded along behind him as he went to the bathroom to wash up.
She could see his ribs, where he used to look toned he now was boney. He didn't change into proper sleepwear he just took of his school shirt and belt and when he washed up his face he didn't use any of his facial potions. Graces and Draco had both since preadolescence been very thorough in their morning routine. Draco was more obsessive about his skin care than her because as he said "not all of us can paint our face and cover up our imperfections, better there just not be any imperfections". It was odd watching him just splash his face with some water and soap before slinking to his bed.
Graces wanted to wake him then, but she waited. She wanted to be sure Nott was asleep and she also didn't want Draco to think she had been there the whole time. Despite the quiet settled in the room she felt as though something sinister was occurring. She was sure that it was only because Nott was sleeping just across the way, but she couldn't shake her trepidation.
"Draco. Draco, wake up."
Draco slowly pried his eye open and turned to where his sister was kneeling beside his bed.
"Bad dream?" he rasped, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
"Uh, yeah," Graces nodded awkwardly, playing with a piece of invisible lint on his sheets.
"Potion isn't working?"
"I didn't take it."
"What? Why?" Draco hissed, now fully awake.
"I-I just wanted to be alert in case Thomas needed help with Octavian."
Draco sighed at his sister's logic and reminded her that Thomas was fully capable of taking care of a child for the night. Especially when he could call for a house elf to help him.
"Yeah, I suppose you're right."
Draco was already moving out of his bed and heading to the door so that they could sleep in Graces', but Graces stopped him from moving towards her dorms and steered him to Thomas'.
"What are we doing?" Draco asked slowly as Graces slowly pried open the door. "I hope you don't think we are taking Octavian in the dead of night."
"We're sleeping with Thomas," Graces informed, before motioning for him to be quiet. Draco scowled and would have dragged her out of the room by her hair if she hadn't already made it to Thomas' bed and woke the younger boy up. Thomas appeared to be exceptionally perplexed as to what was happening, but he didn't protest when Graces moved him over in his bed nor did he make waves when Draco took the middle. He did give Draco a this is weird look, but after the curtains were closed, the bed enlarged and Octavian's basket was moved in with them everyone as a whole seemed happily content.
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"And you have all ze papers?" Guérisseuse Durand clarified, taking out her instruments to examine Octavian.
"Yes," Graces nodded, taking out the forms Thomas had filled out.
"Parfait," the healer murmured, looking the forms over. "I see daddy has give you much power," she whispered, more to herself than to Graces. A few waves of her wand were done to ensure no forgery, but after a few minutes the woman seemed to be satisfied.
"Everything seems to be in order. Now, let me see ze child?" Graces nodded her head and handed Octavian to the healer. Guérisseuse Durand looked the infant over, muttering a few diagnostic spells and looking at the forms Thomas filled out on the diet. "He's a good weight. Monsieur 'iggs appears to be doing a fine job. Does he cry when he leaves him for school?"
"I'm not sure," Graces admitted.
"Find out and owl me. I want to know how ze child's attachment is." Graces nodded her head and stayed quiet as the healer did a few reflex tests. Octavian fussed a little here and there, but for the most part he allowed the examination to take place, though Graces felt that Guérisseuse Durand's pearls aided a bit. If the healer minded his little hands yanking on the strain she didn't show it.
Probably because she knows I can replace it.
"he's a very healthy little boy," the healer proclaimed happily, taking Octavian off the table and handing him over to Graces. "I see nothing wrong. Zough I would like to see more solid food on his next report. I would introduce him to a very wide array of foods, zat way 'e is less likely to be picky. Something I wish your mother would have listened to me about."
"She insists she listened. I was just unwilling to eat anything other than what I wanted."
"Oui, applesauce and mashed potatoes," the healer deadpanned bitterly. "You had to have a nutrient potion every single day."
"Sorry," Graces smiled, bouncing Octavian on her knee.
"Don't apologize to me, apologize to zat godfather of yours. You're mother only wanted potions made by 'im and damn if she didn't almost break down 'is door demanding zem."
Graces smirked at the the thought before listening to the healer about what foods she wanted introduced.
"Zere is zis squib, she makes magnifique baby food. She jars all kinds of yummy food. I will give you her address and you will have Monsieur Higgs order from 'er."
"Is there any nutritional potions added to it?" Graces asked.
"No, ze food is nutrient enough. Like I was saying, she is very good," the healer reminded, handing Graces a paper with the woman's address and the foods she wanted introduced. "Well, I shall be off. I will see you two again in free mons."
"Wait," Graces called. "I, uh, wanted to ask you about something."
The healer waited by the door patiently for Graces to ask, but suddenly Graces' nerves caught up with her. She pulled Octavian closer. "I, uh, wanted to know about umm those polio vaccines." The healer's posture if possible became more taut as her blue eyes pierced Graces' warily. "I just, do they work?"
"Yes."
"For certain? They really do work?"
"Zey do."
"Do, uh, do you think Octavian should have one?"
"Zat is not for me to decide."
Graces realized that the healer in no way was going to make this easy for her. If she wanted Octavian to have that vaccine she was going to have to ask. She couldn't really blame the woman. If she had said yes to the wrong person she could be facing major consequences. Graces was only so daring because her family paid this woman's yearly salary.
"I think Octavian should have the vaccine," she said, surprised that the woman in front of her was even able to hear her words.
"As you wish," Guérisseuse Durand stated, opening her bag and taking out a small glass bottle and a syringe. "Hold him still, s'il vous plaît."
Graces compiled and held Octavian tightly as the tiny stabbed his tiny arm. It took the child a moment to react, as though he couldn't believe what had just been done to him, but he soon processed the pain and screamed out his anger. Graces hushed him and tried to sooth his tears but the tiny babe wouldn't have any of it though, he wailed out his anger until his cheeks were splotched crimson.
"I will administer ze second dose in two mons. Is zere anything else you wish to be done?"
There was a distinct frost about the healer now and Graces almost lost her nerve and sent the woman away, but something in her pushed her to ask for the vaccine as well.
The healer stared at her for a moment, before taking a seat across from where Graces and the baby were.
"You already have ze vaccine," she informed chilly.
"What?"
"You have ze vaccine. You and Draco both."
Graces wavered at what the Healer was saying.
"You-you gave it to us without our parent's consent?"
"No, I gave you two ze vaccine under your father's orders."
Never in a million years would Graces have guessed that her father, Lucius Malfoy, would allow anything muggle to be used on her or Draco. For a moment she wondered if she was being lied to, but that also didn't make sense.
"Your father is not a stupid man," the healer scoffed. "Stubborn yes, but not stupid. And he certainly isn't the kind of man to allow his children to be risked. 'e knew ze vaccine worked. he discussed it wiz me, read ze research, even went and exposed muggle children to ze virus to test its validity. After all was said and done, he had me administer ze vaccines."
"Of course no one knew. Not even your mother was made aware zat you were given ze vaccine," Durand added. "It is on no records and he even refused to be zere when I administered the vaccine. Plausible deniability."
"He never told me," Graces whispered, thinking of all the times her father had sneered at other wizarding families using muggle inventions.
"Zere was no need to tell you. You were safe."
"But-but my father hates muggles."
"He loves you more. Now if you excuse me, I should like to get back home. Take care, ma chère, and if I were you I would keep zat bit of information to yourself." Graces nodded and walked the healer to the door, but before the woman left she turned back and evaluated Graces in the doorway. "How is your eye? Are you adjusting well?"
"I am."
"It can't be easy to be living without depf perception."
"I'm managing."
"Comme vous voulez," the woman sighed. "You know where to reach me should you change your mind."
"I do."
"Just remember, I can't save you from everything, Graces," the healer warned. "I am bound by confidentiality, so you are safe with me, but do not go telling zis world about your choice to vaccinate zat child."
Graces nodded and stayed still as the healer seemed to be evaluating her response. After a moment the older woman left, not bothering to wish her any goodbyes. Graces had a feeling she approved of the vaccination, but that the woman was beginning to wonder about her. She was making mistakes now, she knew she was, but at the same time she was beginning to not be able to see where the line in the sand was.
Graces contemplated all this as she walked back to the dungeons from the infirmary. She was starting to feel differently about her beliefs. Everything she thought she knew, thought she believed in, was slowly unravelling. Part of her wanted to forget all the things that were changing her thoughts: Dr. Harris, the moon landing, the vaccinations. And another part of her wanted to throw it all out and never evaluate those things again. But if she did that then are her beliefs real? If she refused to listen to anything contradicting her wasn't that the worst kind of ignorance? Was it better to risk death than to live out her life as a fool?
"Oh my gods, what's wrong with me?" Graces breathed stopping in the hall at her last thought.
"Graces?"
Graces looked up to see Neville limping towards her drenched in sweat.
"What happened to you?" she asked, adjusting Octavian on her hip.
"Oh, uh, just sprained my ankle playing football with the Dean and Seamus."
"Football?" Graces repeated scowling.
"Uh, it's this muggle game where you kick a ball around and—it's not important," Neville waved, clearly not wanting to discuss his athletic failures. "Point is I think I sprained my ankle and was heading to the infirmary. What are you doing here?"
Graces bobbed Octavian to answer, but didn't offer further explanation.
"Is he okay?" Neville frowned, coming closer and putting his hand on the child's forehead. "He's all pinky."
"He's fine," Graces said quickly, moving the child out of Neville's reach. "I should go. He's tired."
"Wait, I, uh, can I talk to you for a few? I wanted to say something and—"
"We can't talk here," Graces clipped looking around to ensure no one was near. "People could see."
"Well, then how about you meet me in that classroom? I'll be there in just a few I swear." Graces worried her lip, not sure if that was a good idea. "Please?" Neville asked, his darker eyes begging her to agree.
"You have ten minutes," Graces stipulated, inwardly groaning at her inability to say no. "Ten. And if Octavian gets fussy I'm going to leave."
"That's all I need," Neville swore. "I'll be there in ten."
Graces nodded and briskly walked over to the classroom. She took a seat in the corner of the room and tried to focus on keeping Octavian entertained and not her head's swirling thoughts.
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Neville, once he realized that Madam Pomfrey was not going to be able to get to his ankle within several minutes, left the infirmary and hobbled over to the classroom. When he entered Graces was sitting uncomfortably, half-heartedly bouncing Octavian while the child wrapped his little fists around her long hair. She seemed more worried than angry, but Neville knew he should tread lightly.
"So, this is Octavian?" Neville grinned coming close and tickling the bottom of the tubby child's cheeks. "He's handsome."
"Thank you," Graces nodded, a quiet smile tugging the corner of her mouth. Neville paused at her response, finding it a bit odd, but decided to not dwell on it.
"What happened here?" he asked, pointing to the small bandage on Octavian's arm. Graces hand immediately went to the tiny covering, as though if she hid it Neville would forget it was there. Neville frowned at her response and stared at her.
"It's from his check up," Graces clipped vaguely.
"Did he get a shot?" Neville asked astounded, knowing that the only time he ever received a covering was when he had a muggle vaccination. His gran was insistent that they could spell the wound good as new, but most healers didn't know enough about muggle medicine and they did things exactly as a muggle would when treating anyone with it. Graces' brooding glare answered his question and Neville sat back on a desk to keep himself grounded.
"If you say a word to anyone about it I swear to the gods—"
"I'm not going to say anything," Neville interrupted. "I'm not an idiot." Graces pinched her lips together but didn't continue with her threat. She held Octavian closer to her and did her best not to meet Neville's eyes.
"I think that was a really good decision." Neville stated. "A really good one."
"No one can know."
"I understand that."
"He cried."
"I'm sure he did," Neville chuckled.
"So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Graces asked hollowly.
"Just about last night," Neville blushed. "I, uh, I wanted to apologize. I don't think I was very patient or understanding… And I feel bad about it."
"Oh, I didn't even notice," Graces shrugged, offering him a small smile.
"No, I was out of line. I shouldn't have pressured you like that."
"That was you pressuring me?" Graces laughed.
"Well, a bit yeah…" Neville blushed.
"That wasn't pressuring me, Longbottom," Graces scoffed.
Neville now wondered exactly what Graces and Nott's relationship was like at the end, he wasn't curious enough to ask, knowing better than to bring up the bloke, but he now added another reason to hate the guy.
"Well, I'm sorry all the same."
"You're forgiven all the same," Graces echoed with a smirk. "I understand that things have been… trying lately."
"No, they really haven't been," Neville countered. "Things have been perfect lately."
"I doubt you feel they are perfect," Graces scoffed.
"No, I really do feel that way," Neville swore. "I think you were right about us focusing more on a friendship. I really feel like we've grown close and when you're comfortable and ready I think that it will be better."
Graces nodded, but Neville had a feeling that he said something wrong. The blonde was once again not looking at him and she was fidgeting in her seat, pretending to be fussing over Octavian.
"Is everything okay?" Neville asked warily.
"Yes, of course."
"You seem… disturbed."
"No, I'm just tired," Graces offered lamely. "I've just been so busy today."
"Graces, is there—"
"I need to go. Thomas should be finishing up practice and he will want to see Octavian."
"Right," Neville frowned, standing up along with her. "I guess I'll see you tonight."
"About that," Graces breathed turning and facing him. "I don't think I can meet this weekend."
"What?"
"I want to help Thomas with Octavian and he wakes up so early. I need to take my potions at a decent hour at night and I think it's best we skip this weekend."
Neville was now sure something was up.
"I know when you're lying," he reminded, taking a step closer. "What's going on? I thought you were happy, that things were going well."
"I am happy, things are going well."
"Then why are you backing away?"
"I'm not."
"You are," Neville stressed, steering her shoulders away from the door so that she was facing him. "What's going on? Did something happen?"
"No."
"Why are you retreating?"
"Longbottom, I'm not. I just-I just need some time for myself. Just some time to think."
"Are you thinking of ending this?"
"No," Graces swore. "No we are friends and no matter what I want us to be friends."
"Then I don't understand. Why—"
"I really just want some time to myself," Graces repeated, moving her hand to rest on his cheek. "Just a little time to think about a few things going on in my life. Octavian being one of them. I am not going anywhere, I just want to think. It's one weekend."
"Is it?" Neville asked solemnly.
"It is. Friday we will meet up after your Slug Club party. I swear."
Neville didn't know if he believed Graces, but at the same time he really didn't have a choice. He couldn't make her meet with him and he knew if he placed any pressure on her she would retaliate with greater force.
"Okay," he sighed heavily. "I really hope you mean it, cause next weekend we also leave for Christmas break."
"Friday night, I swear."
Graces turned to leave, but Neville turned her back and kissed her longingly on the lips. He could feel Octavian's protests against his chest, but he didn't care he wanted to kiss her. Kissing her was an answer in itself. He pulled away disappointed. She hadn't really kissed him back. Graces looked up at him apologetically, but gave no excuse for her actions.
"Right," Neville breathed deflated. "Nothing's going on," he repeated, making it clear he didn't believe her.
"I'll see you Friday night," Graces promised, refusing to say more before she departed without a second glance.
Neville stood in the room and tried to tell himself that there was no need for him to have this sinking feeling in his chest. There were a million explanations for why Graces was wanting space that didn't necessarily have to do with him. And the kiss could have been a fluke as well, due to Octavian being there, but in his heart of hearts he knew. Graces, for whatever reason, was reassessing them.
Don't forget to follow/review! I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter! And again sorry it was so late.