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 guest, guest, guest, noone297, char170217, GTH, Blue Luver5000, guest and Relentless Revolver for the reviews!
Chapter 60
It was official. Graces was avoiding him. Neville had now come to the point where he wondered how much of this his heart could take. Was he forever doomed to feel that he was on thin ice with Graces? One small move and they would crack. There was no security, nothing to reach for to hold him up when she did this.
All week he had felt the bitter sting of rejection from her. She wouldn't even meet his eyes in class. She kept her nose buried in notes and during anything practical she just asked a million questions about the subject, refusing to allow him a single friendly word. She wasn't cruel or mean, just distant. She greeted him and anything above that was like pulling teeth. It wasn't long before he just stopped trying, more comfortable with silence than pathetic attempts to bring her back to him.
He had hoped that maybe he could demand to know more of what was going on when they were forced to meet outside of class to tend to their plant, but Graces had outmaneuvered him. She would show up for their meetings with Blaise and the two of them were usually enthralled in some discussion that he couldn't understand seeing as they decided to speak in French around him for their privacy.
"Good morning," Graces breathed taking her seat beside him and opening her notes.
Neville nodded to her greeting, but didn't look towards her. He kept his eyes set forward. He could feel anger pooling into his body despite himself and gritted his teeth tighter to keep from being unpleasant. Graces appeared not to notice. Or care.
"I'm still going tomorrow," Neville murmured angrily. Graces paused in her reading but didn't say anything else, much to Neville's irritation. "I mean, I said I would and Hannah is expecting me there and Ernie is as well. So I'm going."
"I wouldn't expect you not to go," Graces countered gently, going back to her book. Neville glowered at her. Here he was practically a wreck and she was just as tranquil as ever. He pressed his lips together to keep himself from goading her more. He felt like a child, a child that was so starved for attention he would settle for negative rather than positive. He just wanted a rise out of Graces at this point. He didn't even care if their interactions were friendly so long as it was an interaction.
"Good, because I don't care that you don't want me there. I'm still going."
The blonde sighed in exasperation and finally looked up at him.
"I never said I didn't want you there," Graces pointed out. "I very much do want you there. What I did say was I wanted space."
"Yeah, but you refused to answer why you wanted space."
It was now Graces' turn to glower at him. Neville met her stare though, refusing to just back away. After everything he felt he should know.
"I am not talking to you about this now," Graces said, turning back to her notes.
"Always your terms," Neville murmured bitterly, going back to staring forward. "So if not now, when? Friday? Or do you plan on bringing Zabini with you then too?"
"Professor," Graces called out, as Sprout took the front of the room. "I'm feeling ill, do you mind if I go to the infirmary?"
"You have got to be kidding me," Neville murmured under his breath.
"Is everything okay?" Professor Sprout asked, moving to their desk and looking the blonde over.
"Yes, I just am not feeling to well. Do you mind if I go lie down?"
"Well, what is it that's bothering you?"
Graces paused for a moment before glancing at Neville and leaning in and whispering something to the woman in front of her. Professor Sprout seemed to feel that whatever Graces had mentioned was excuse enough because she nodded and told her to go ahead and to feel better soon.
Neville was left inwardly cursing. He didn't know who he was more angry with, himself or Graces. Either way he felt like an idiot. And the fact that he couldn't concentrate at all in Herbology did not help that feeling. This was by far his worst day in Herbology and at the end of it he wondered if Professor Sprout was rethinking her decision in giving him the apprenticeship.
At the end of the day his melancholy mood had not improved in the slightest and he sat in an area of the library closed off from any human interaction. The funny thing was now he knew his absence would be missed. Since he and Graces had been meeting solely in the dead of night on the weekends he had been spending ample amounts of time with his friends. Getting away for this much needed solitude was harder than he anticipated.
He sat alone in the corner of the library that housed the long forgotten muggle literature thinking about Graces. He wanted to remain calm. It wasn't like they hadn't been through all this before, but he was just so tired of it. He was willing to go through it, but now he felt as though going through this kind of indecision was tearing him up. He loved her. He needed her, and it killed him to know that she could so casually throw him away. Everything was always the same, nothing ever changed. No matter what he did she still shied away. He didn't need anything more than what she had given him in the past few weeks. Nothing more.
Did he want more? Of course. He would take it all if Graces offered it to him, but he was never going to ask. All he wanted was for her to be near him. He missed her. Not her body, her. He missed her in the most innocent form. He laid back against the bookcase and closed his eyes, determined to not think any more on things he could not change.
Graces was not going to change. This was how she dealt with intimacy. She retreated. Maybe she was right to do so. This was eventually going to break his heart. Why should hers be broken all the same? No, this was better for her. Neville sat there and allowed a small amount of feeling to seep in and thought about how lucky Graces was to never have to feel this kind of pain.
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Ernie bristled at the thought of going to the concert with Neville. Hannah insisted though and he felt obligated as her friend to fulfill her request. Still, he also felt obligated as her friend to hate the bloke that broke her heart.
"Ernie," Neville greeted, coming up from the hall.
"Longbottom."
A surge of satisfaction surged through the Hufflepuff at Neville's reaction to his cold greeting and if he had been a Slytherin he would have smirked smugly, but he wasn't so he stood emotionless and waited for the other boy to say something more.
"Ernie, come on. You know I never meant to hurt Hannah."
"But you did."
"What would have wanted me to do?" Neville asked, clearly at a loss.
"Declined the date to begin with. If you didn't like her why would you agree to go on a date with her?"
"I was caught off guard. I didn't think."
"You could have explained it to her. Told her you had a lovely time, but you just wanted to be friends. Something."
Neville made some sort of sound of exasperation and pursed his lips tightly as he looked up to the ceiling.
"Ernie, has it ever occurred to you that I don't have much experience in dating? That I assumed I didn't have to say anything since it was a first date and that my not asking her out would be answer enough to my feelings?"
"That's a really stupid thing to think."
"Well, I am not the most intelligent of blokes."
"Clearly, you would rather have Malfoy over Hannah."
Neville glared up at him and Ernie could tell he had a hex on the tip of his tongue, but as quickly as the emotion came Neville put it away.
"Who I fancy is my own business, Macmillan," Neville warned, clearly not allowing the conversation to open up about Graces.
"Still got a thing for her?"
"Shove off," Neville snapped, moving past him over to the Great Hall.
"Where are you going?" Ernie exclaimed, following closely behind.
"Getting away from you."
"Hannah wants us to sit together."
"Clearly that isn't going to happen."
"Neville, stop!" Ernie growled, grabbing the taller boy by his coat and yanking him back. "I promised her."
Neville pulled away and ignored his pleas for him to stop. Ernie groaned out his frustrations for a moment and let Neville go deciding that he was just going to sit separately from Neville and tell Hannah that it wasn't his fault that Neville was a right arse. But the moment he decided it he knew that wasn't going to happen. He promised Hannah. He said that he would sit with Neville and make an effort, if he didn't go over then he broke two promises to his friend. Ernie took a few moments to kick the castle wall before swallowing his anger and entering the Great Hall.
It was set up differently than usual for the choir performance. Chairs were placed facing the front where Dumbledore and all the professors usually sat, only instead of the usual table a grand piano stood on the left side and risers were stationed in the middle. The lighting had been significantly dimmed and there was a pale blue ambiance about the room as the starry sky and full moon showed above them on the ceiling. Candles were only lit near the entrances to the rows of chairs and in the background of where the choir singers were going to be. It gave everyone's face a warm glow, despite the false snow falling down from midair.
Ernie caught a glimpse of where Neville was seated in the front row and hurried over, so no one would take the spot next to him. The sandy haired boy bristled with irritation as he took his seat, but Ernie ignored it.
"I don't want to upset Hannah," he said quietly, making sure the girl was no where to be seen. "She really wants us to get along again."
"I'm not the one that has a problem. You have a problem with me and I'm just not willing to be your verbal punching bag."
Ernie blushed from Neville's statement, but couldn't bring himself to apologize.
"She's my friend," he proclaimed stubbornly. "She's my friend and she was hurt, I don't know what to think of you now. You hurt her and you didn't make things right."
"I tried," Neville deadpanned, not bothering to even look at him. "There is no good way to turn someone down."
"You didn't try," Ernie hissed. "You could have gone on more dates. You—"
"I meant I tried to make things right," Neville corrected. "I did. It wouldn't have been right to try and date Hannah when I knew I wouldn't feel anything for her. I'm really sorry she was hurt, and that I wasn't all-knowing on how to handle women, but I have apologized to her and she has accepted that."
"Why didn't you make things right with her sooner. Why did you wait?"
"I thought she needed time," Neville shrugged. "It seemed like the right thing to do give her space." Ernie opened his mouth as though he were going to make another argument, but before he could get any words out Neville rounded on him so that they were almost nose to nose. "Damn it, Ernie, leave me alone about this. I'm sixteen. I don't know anything about anything and I sure as hell don't need you making this out like it was a great sin on my part. I have actual things to worry over and I don't need this petty teenage drama."
"It's not petty teenage drama!" Ernie exclaimed indignantly. "You hurt her and—"
"And she has forgiven me," Neville repeated agitatedly. "So bugger off."
Ernie knew Neville was right, but couldn't seem to bring his emotions to the same conclusion. Neville scoffed at him and turned back so he was looking forward.
"She still likes you," Ernie said quietly.
"Yeah, I had a feeling about that," Neville muttered under his breath.
"I just… I just don't know what to do. I don't want her to get hurt again, and she looks so closely into everything you say to her. You know she asked me if I thought you coming meant that maybe you were starting to reconsider. Like maybe you realized that liking Graces was a mistake and were starting to think of her."
Neville looked down for a moment and Ernie could tell that he didn't need to make Neville feel poorly about Hannah, he could do that right on his own.
"I don't feel that way for her," Neville sighed. "I just don't. I also don't know what to do so she realizes that. I thought staying a distance was good and now I'm trying to be friendly and she is apparently taking it as something else."
"I don't know either…"
"Maybe I should go back to keeping my distance."
"That's going to make her cry."
"Then what do you suggest?" Neville asked icily. "Since you apparently know more than me on these matters."
Ernie blushed, but admitted he didn't know what else to do. Neville sat pensively for a few moments, before turning to Ernie cautiously.
"Just tell her I'm not interested, Ernie. Tell her you and I talked and you know I'm not interested."
"Oh that would go well. She would murder me if she knew I talked to you about her."
"Then-then don't tell her we talked about her," Neville said slowly, clearly forming an idea. "Tell her you asked if I was still sweet on Malfoy."
"Are you?" Ernie frowned. Ernie didn't need an answer though, because just then Graces hurried on stage, her choir robes billowing behind her as she placed sheet music on the piano.
"Do you have everything?" Professor Flitwick whispered, peering over her shoulder at all the papers.
"Yes, it's tuned?" she asked in reply.
"Of course."
Graces nodded and bent down to adjust the piano bench and that's when Ernie saw her eyes land on Neville. She tightened her jaw as her eyes narrowed on him, but didn't say anything. She simply turned and pretended he wasn't there, stalking off into a back room when she was finished.
"Tell me you didn't pick this spot because of Malfoy," he begged looking over at Neville.
"Well, I think we are finally on good terms, Ernie. I don't want to ruin that with a lie."
The Hufflepuff wrinkled his nose in distaste, but Neville just shrugged, clearly well past caring what people thought of it. Ernie tried not to think too much about Neville's choice in women and comforted himself in the idea that Hannah was just too sweet for him, that he was some kind of masochist. He was deep into this thought when Draco Malfoy suddenly appeared in front of him with Thomas Higgs by his side. Neville breathed out a curse, but looked at the blonde head on.
"You have got to be kidding me," Draco growled, glaring down at Neville.
"I wish he was," Ernie sighed, looking away as Draco's steely eyes turned to him.
"Just here to see the performance, Malfoy," Neville muttered, his hand going close to wand pocket.
"I know what you're doing here, Longbottom. And I believe I warned you about going near my sister."
"He's here with me," Ernie piped up, not wanting Neville to be on the end of an angry Malfoy. "Hannah has a solo, so shove off."
Ernie felt a chill go down his spine and muttered over and over in his head 'unafraid of toil, unafraid of toil,' until Draco's eyes moved away from his. Draco took a step further, but a soft voice seemed to save both him and Neville.
"Draco, take a seat."
Ernie was a bit surprised to see the blonde obey so quickly and turned his eyes to see Narcissa Malfoy standing regally in the aisle. While Draco and Graces had gray eyes, hers were the purest blue. Ernie looked away, not really wanting to be noticed by her and also not wanting to be disrespectful. He may not like the Malfoys, but he was raised proper when it came to respecting his elders. Realizing that where he was seated didn't allow Narcissa, Draco and Thomas a seat he stood and moved to the other side of Neville.
Thomas took the seat he had vacated, but after Draco whispered something in his ear the smaller boy moved and Draco was now seated almost elbow to elbow with Neville. Ernie could tell Draco was murmuring something under his breath to his friend, but he couldn't hear any of what was being muttered, and Neville just continued to stare forward as though he didn't hear a word. This seemed to make Draco even more furious. It wasn't until Narcissa leaned in over Thomas and murmured something that Draco calmed down and switched his seat back.
"What was that about?" Ernie asked, watching Narcissa put a calming hand down on her son's arm.
"Not sure, I tuned him out after he started mentioning my castration."
Ernie flinched at the thought and asked how he could be so calm. Neville let out a small chuckle and smiled wryly before answering "Malfoys just like to talk, trust me."
Ernie was about to ask him how he could be so confident, but before he could the choir students began flowing out of the rooms in the back and were taking their place on the risers. Hannah gave a little hand wave to where he and Neville were sitting and Ernie grinned and mouthed her a good luck. He could tell she was exceptionally nervous, but she seemed to be okay. Hannah didn't have the best reputation for dealing with her nerves, but one of the things he admired about her was that she still tried. She didn't decide not to do things because it made her uncomfortable or scared. She was always trying to improve.
He had always thought she and Neville were a good match because of this. They both tended to get exceptionally nervous, but they also both tried. They didn't scare away from something so easily. Hannah was one of the most hardworking people he knew, as was Neville. He thought the two of them being together was a match made in heaven. Not to mention their personalities were similar. Both soft spoken, but also able to speak up when needed. He wished Neville saw all that, or perhaps he did and just didn't care.
The first few songs sang were all very traditional, one even being in Latin. Graces played the piano accompaniment for all of the tunes and Ernie prayed Hannah didn't notice Neville's eyes drifting over to her every few measures. She didn't seem to, perhaps because the lighting was kept so dim, but then Graces stood from the piano and moved to the center with Blaise and Ernie knew without a doubt she must have noticed the way Neville perked up with interest. Ernie also hoped against hope that Hannah didn't take note of the fact that Graces and Blaise both had absolutely heavenly voices and clearly had each been trained in music.
Everyone seemed to be captivated by Graces and Blaise singing and it didn't help that along with their amazing voices both students apparently had a knack for theatrics. They smiled and made faces to go along with the cheerful holiday song and though they both stayed where they stood they moved in the most natural ways with their arms and faces.
Hannah has a pretty voice too, Ernie reminded himself. She's going to be fine. This isn't going to faze her, because she has practiced like mad. It's going to be fine. Ernie told himself this until Blaise and Graces were done, but as Hannah approached the center he knew it wasn't true.
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Eb major; c minor; three flats. Graces looked over at the sheet music one more time before turning to Professor Flitwick and nodding that she was ready. She didn't really get nervous at concerts, if anything she enjoyed the attention, but this one she was definitely thoroughly aware. She was aware that Neville had came and sat so he could see her and she was aware that unfortunately that spot was also the spot her family had decided to take. In short none of this was good.
And to top it all off she knew Neville was mad at her. Sure, he was there and he was seated where he had said he would be, but she could tell he was furious. When their eyes had met earlier when she was setting up she saw exactly how mad he truly was. Not mad enough to not come to miss her performance, but mad enough not to give her a smile. For Neville that was furious. She peeked over to see if he was looking at her and scowled as she saw his eyes were fixed on Hannah, it was only then that Graces realized Hannah was not singing. She had been so lost in thought she hadn't realized the Hufflepuff had froze on stage.
Graces started playing the song more elaborately adding things here and there in the music so it wasn't as dull as an accompaniment. She hoped this would divert the attention enough from Hannah so that the blonde could jump in on her own, but Hannah didn't seem to catching onto how she was trying to help her.
"Hannah," Graces whispered from the corner of her mouth as she banged on the piano keys at the end of a crescendo. "Sit down."
The blonde sat automatically beside her on the piano bench and Graces ignored her harsh intakes of breath and tried to keep time.
"I am going to round back to the beginning after the chorus and you are going to start over," Graces muttered, not bothering to look at the girl beside her.
"I can't," Hannah hiccupped clearly in tears now that her face was hidden behind Graces' side.
"You can and you will," Graces snapped. "If you don't I am just going to stop and it will be much more embarrassing for you. You have four measures."
Four measures came and Hannah's voice did not. Graces gritted her jaw and was about to stop all together and stomp back to her place in the risers next to Pansy, when Hannah softly began rasping the song. She dropped her playing to a soft pianissimo, so the audience could hear and kept track of Hannah's voice should it allow her to be louder.
She had felt odd playing this song to begin with. Not only was it muggle, it was religious. She had almost refused to play it, but refusing to do something when a Professor asks would not look well on her later. So she played, but made sure not to play it with any sort of vibrancy. Now though, she felt like she couldn't go back to the simple playing she had done before, not after she had made the song more elaborate to help distract the audience. Hannah's voice soared over the hall and Graces realized she had caused that. If she would have just stopped when Hannah had been unable to perform she wouldn't have had to play this song at all.
Why did I do that?
Graces thought for a moment it was because of Neville, but a great part of her knew that wasn't true. It was something else, something that was nagging at her mind. She stood with Hannah at the end of the solo and both returned to join the rest of the group for the final number.
"Thank you," Hannah whispered shyly as they approached their spots. Graces looked up from her thoughts and gave a curt nod, still unsure of what had happened. She took her space beside Pansy who was showing the same sort of confusion over Graces' actions as Graces was feeling.
"I just reacted," Graces whispered lamely.
Pansy twisted her mouth, but didn't say a word. She just turned her eyes back to Professor Flitwick and waited to begin. Graces mirrored her actions, but couldn't help but look over at her mother during the last song. She didn't seem to have any sort of emotion on her face. She watched the choir performance just as she had every year. Draco though was staring at her silently asking the question of what that was all about.
It was nice to see no real disapproval from him though, just sheer confusion. At the end of the song though all cheered and it wasn't long before Graces was hurrying down the steps and flinging her arms around her mother, not realizing until that moment how much she missed her. But she had. She had missed and wanted her so much more than she had known, so much that the smell of her perfume was making her eyes water with emotion.
Time didn't stand still for her mother's visit. One moment she was holding her the next they were exchanging pleasantries. Draco and Graces were both well aware that their mother was not telling them things and that she was trying fish out their secrets as well. Graces knew that war tore families apart, but she always took it as someone going off to fight or being killed, but now she sensed a deeper meaning.
Her family wasn't the same. They didn't talk like they used to and each of them knew the others held secrets that they wanted told. It was hard being around her mother and not being able to tell her everything, not being able to tell her she almost died or cry to her for comfort about the injustice of it all.
One day, Graces promised herself. One day I will tell her everything.
She went back to her dorm more homesick than ever and collapsed on her bed in tears. What she wanted more than anything was to go home and sleep in her own bed with the knowledge that her mother was down the hall from her. She wasn't even going home for Christmas. Her mother had cryptically said they were having guests and she felt she and Draco would be safer here at the castle. Graces wondered if she would ever go home. If Draco didn't complete his task then she and her family were going to the safe house for gods know how long. She wished she would have known that before she walked out the doors to come to school.
Not wanting anyone to see her so distressed she hurried into the showers when she heard Pansy and Millicent coming upstairs. After she was sure she was more composed, she showered off the day and got ready for bed. She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn't notice the long stemmed rose on her nightstand. It didn't even need a note. It was from Neville.
She gingerly picked it up and ran a finger through the soft petals thinking about the boy that sent it to her. The boy that despite his anger still made her feel special and appreciated. And suddenly she wasn't homesick anymore.
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Neville stared at himself in the mirror one last time before leaving to go to Slughorn's party. He thought he looked decent, the bags under his eyes were there to stay, but his hair was combed nicely and he was wearing the sweater vest his gran had bought him last Christmas. He left the dorm as Harry was in the midst of fighting his own hair and wished him a good luck which was met with a comb being thrown at his head.
He walked the halls exceptionally aware of how alone he was. He tried to keep his mind away from Graces, but he couldn't stop it from wandering. She hadn't even looked at him today. Even when they passed by one another in the halls, she had been sure to keep her eyes downward. He now wished he had never gone to the concert or bothered to send that rose. He had a feeling that this was Graces' way of breaking it off with him. Yes, she had said they would see one another, but when he had brought up Friday in Herbology she had literally found a way to exit the room. And then there was the classroom. She had said no matter what she wanted them to be friends. Neville should have realized then, friends, that's what girls called it when they didn't want to be with you. Like what he said to Hannah, or what Ginny had said to him. I just want to be friends.
It was insane how much being friends with someone you love hurts.
"Neville."
Neville turned around at the familiar voice and his jaw dropped at the sight of Graces leaning against the wall he had just passed. She was stunning. She wore a sheath black metallic laced cocktail dress that made his tongue go dry and his eyes widen. He took a step closer noticing the attention she put into her make up and smiled despite himself.
"You're… you're here," Neville breathed, almost unable to believe it. "You're really here!"
It suddenly all made sense. She needed to think, she was thinking about this. If they could go together, that's what she was thinking about. She wasn't evaluating things between them or thinking of breaking things off, she just wanted to really think about attending with him. She probably wanted space so that she could not be influenced by how happy they were when they were together, not make a promise in the heat of a moment that she didn't intend to fulfill. Plus she would probably need a back up story, which of course she thought about in her spare time because she's the most brilliant woman in the world.
"Neville, I think you have the wrong idea," Graces said nervously. "I—"
"Cara Bella, I'm so sorry to keep you waiting!" Blaise called from around the corner. "I can't believe I forgot the gift. It's because you distracted me. I can't think straight with a pretty woman like you standing in my room."
Blaise stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Neville and Graces standing in the hall. Graces sat up from the wall slowly, her eyes not moving away from his and Neville stayed in his place.
"Serves me right for asking you to just wait," Blaise said slowly, coming over to Graces and weaving his arm around her waist. "I hope you weren't bothered, my darling," he said quietly, tilting her chin towards him so she was meeting his eyes. "I do so hate to think of you being forced into awkward conversation. Come, off to the party we go."
Nevilles legs were glued to the floor as the pair of them passed. He knew he should look away, but the task was impossible. He watched as Graces left, Zabini's arm still wrapped around her waist while he whispered something in her ear. It wasn't until the dark skinned boy looked back and smirked at him that he was able to look down like a fool.
He needed to get out of the hall, out of the castle, hell, out of this world. His chest felt tight and his eyes were stinging and each breath felt like it contained lead. He walked in the opposite direction of where the party was at, desperate to not see Graces and Blaise again. He wanted out. That was the only tangible thing he could get from his mind. He wanted out, but he couldn't even comprehend what that meant. He pushed open the first door he could so that he could be alone and get a grip.
His heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest and shoved down his throat into his stomach where it was still thumping against his guts. She was there, picture perfect in a dress that made his jaw drop and his tongue twist into knots, with Blaise Zabini's arm around her waist. Neville closed his eyes and tried to rid himself of the image of Zabini's hand trailing along her back possessively as he smirked over at him.
A small creak from the door took away any chance of Neville obliterating the image from his mind as Graces sneaked into the classroom with him.
"Let me explain," she requested, her arms out as though she suspected she was going to have to calm him down.
"There's nothing to explain," Neville declined, his voice cracking from emotion. "It's fine. I get it."
"No you—"
"It's a good match. He's handsome, rich and your family will no doubt approve. I get it. You don't have to say anything about it to me. It's your private life."
"Longbottom, please listen to me for a moment and—"
"I need to get to the party, I don't want to be rude. You should get back to Blaise, he's probably wondering where you're at and-and we were just friends anyway. I hope we can still be friends." Graces opened her mouth to say something, but Neville raised his hand and pushed past her at the door. Not even bothering to turn around when she grabbed his coat.
He wanted to turn left and go back to the Gryffindor tower, pretend to be ill so he could lay down in his bed and put himself back together, but he turned right and headed towards the party.
"Neville, are you okay?"
Luna. Sweet, perfect, breath of pure air, Luna.
"I don't think so," Neville answered honestly, blushing furiously as he realized Harry was standing beside her. "I-I'm just nervous… Dinner parties aren't exactly my thing."
"Not mine either," Harry grumbled. Luna just grinned and offered her other arm for Neville to take.
"I think I shall allow Harry to be the only one to take your arm," Neville chuckled. "Though if it doesn't bother you could I tag along? I don't really want to enter awkwardly alone."
"Yeah, sure," Harry nodded, strolling along with Luna's arm wrapped in his. Neville looked down at Luna silently asking the question of the seriousness of the date, but Luna didn't seem to understand his questioning eyes and just smiled dreamily.
They entered Professor Slughorn's private chambers together, though Neville was doubtful that Slughorn noticed him or Luna. The older man's full focus was on Harry. Clearly Harry was who he truly wanted at the event. He didn't even excuse himself from the conversation he was having with a few other students before he was greeting Harry and offering him a drink.
Neville was suddenly very thankful that he was not the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry pinked as the whole room's attention was brought to him and the Slytherin students that were there sent hateful glares. It was clear from most people's perspective that Harry in no way wanted such attentions, but as always people saw what they wanted to see.
"Luna, can I get you a drink?" Neville as politely, seeing as Harry had been whisked away to look at some old photos.
"Gilly water would be pleasant," Luna smiled, her big eyes taking in the room.
"Gilly water it is then," Neville nodded, quickly moving away from the entrance. He suspected Graces and Blaise would be entering soon and he wanted to be far away from them as possible. Sure enough as he turned the two Slytherins were entering. Blaise grinned cockily as he waved hello to a few other students and Graces seemed to be searching the room. He suspected she was searching for him and hurriedly made to rejoin Luna who had wandered over to Harry's side. He could feel when her eyes were upon him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood and his heart rate escalated, but he refused to look over.
He was going to hold it together. He was. He was going to focus on the party and his friends and hold himself together.
"I think it's quite silly for you not to look at Graces when she is dressed so pretty," Luna commented quietly.
"Self preservation," Neville deadpanned, not bothering to explain when Luna looked up at him questioningly. "It's a long story," Neville murmured, taking a long sip of his own drink. "And not one I want to tell now."
Neville was luckily saved from having to disclose anything as Slughorn had decided then was the moment to have everyone take their seats around the table. Neville took the seat between Luna and Hermione to ensure he wouldn't be sat beside Graces, but unfortunately for him Blaise pulled the seat across from him at the table for Graces to take a seat in. Neville glared at the other boy. He had a suspicion that Zabini was purposefully throwing the fact that Graces was his date in his face. He apparently had not lost the amusement over him being publically turned down by her.
Neville looked away as he leaned into her neck and whispered something in her ear as she took her seat. She had shrugged away from him, but Neville realized that could be for tact. He doubted that Graces wanted to hurt him, but it didn't change the fact that all of this did.
"So, McLaggen?" Neville asked, turning to Hermione for some distractions.
"Oh, umm, just as friends," Hermione said, blushing furiously.
"Does he know that?" Neville asked, as the other boy took his seat beside her and reached for her hand, that Hermione suddenly needed to take a drink of water.
"Don't be cheeky, Neville," Hermione breathed, sending him a glare that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Wouldn't dream," Neville nodded, turning to the door as it opened.
Ginny had now arrived, her eyes red from what he assumed to be tears caused by another one of her and Dean's fights. The table stared at her curiously as she made her apologies and Harry seemed to be the only one to remember any semblance of manners considering he stood, rather awkwardly, when she walked over to the table.
Ginny proceeded to apologize for her tardiness and Neville looked over at her silently asking the question that was on everyone's mind. She nodded her head that she was okay, but Neville didn't feel that she was. Then again he wasn't okay either.
"So, Mr. Zabini, I wasn't aware that you and Miss Malfoy were an item," Slughorn commented, beginning polite dinner conversation.
At the same time Graces said they weren't Blaise had grinned and proclaimed his surprise at Slughorn not knowing.
"Awww, it would seem one of you is a bit hesitant."
"She just likes to play hard to get," Blaise winked. "I'm sure you know how women can be."
"Quite well," Slughorn laughed, jostling Blaise' shoulder like a man congratulating a son, before turning to Graces. "Well, Miss Malfoy, I'm glad you came. It isn't everyday I have dinner with a former model."
"Former?" Blaise scowled.
"Former," Graces confirmed quietly, taking a drink of wine to try and hide the red that had crept to her cheeks. "I lost the contract."
"You never told me you lost the contract," Blaise frowned, turning his body towards Graces and his face actually looking contrite. His usual arrogance was put aside.
"There was nothing to tell," Graces shrugged. "They broke it after my father's incarceration and that was the end of it."
"Well, I wouldn't call it the end of it," Slughorn broke in. "My friend is the CEO for the modeling agency. She told me all about your suit."
"They broke their contract with me with absolutely no grounds," Graces proclaimed unapologetically. "They signed me and I spent months over the summer working for them and then they let me go when I did nothing to break my contract. They said it was over the morality clause in my contract, but I didn't do anything immoral."
"She said that she offered you a very generous severance," Slughorn pointed out, intrigued by Graces' logic.
"Generous," Graces scoffed. "I wouldn't call it that generous at all. She offered to pay out my contract, but her breaking my contract because of a morality clause ruined my career. What company would have hired me after such a scandal? And it wasn't even for my actions. I sued her for what I would have made in my whole modeling career, damages to my reputation and of course the embarrassment I suffered. And apparently the courts seemed to feel that her reneging on our contract was unjustified as well, because I won the settlement just earlier this month."
"And the photos," Slughorn pointed out, a twinkle in his eye. "You sued her for the photos as well."
"They weren't going to use them anyways," Graces shrugged. "She didn't even put up a fight for them. They had sentimental value to me."
"I think I would have been more upset that you turned my friend upside down, but after hearing how you are using that money, I can't say I have the heart to take my friend's side." Graces frowned curiously at Slughorn's statement, but waited for him to explain. "You know, the donation to St. Mungo's Janus Thickey ward."
"Janus Thickey ward?" a Ravenclaw girl questioned, clearly as unfamiliar with that ward as the rest of the table.
"It's the ward for permanent residents," McLaggen informed. "Most of the residents there are mad."
Neville felt as though bugs were crawling on the insides of his skin and a blazing heat was crawling up his collar.
"It was exceptionally generous of you to donate your money to that," Slughorn continued, staring at Graces over his goblet.
Graces took a luxurious sip of wine, leaving Neville to wonder if she was gathering her thoughts on what to say.
"That donation was anonymous," she informed, placing her goblet down and looking pointedly at Slughorn. "I was very specific with the director that no one was to know where the funds came from. I distinctly remember saying absolutely no one."
"Oh, don't blame the witch," Slughorn grinned, completely unaware of Graces' displeasure. "She just was telling me all about the wonderful things her anonymous donor was doing for the ward and my curiosity was piqued, so I enticed her with some sherry and soon your name just slipped out."
"What all is being done?" Neville asked Slughorn, ignoring Graces' glare.
"Oh, well, the whole ward is being expanded and full master bedrooms are being added for each resident. Miss Malfoy here insisted that it look and feel more like a home. She even has had magical windows installed that show the patients a tranquil area like a garden or a field. Then there is to be a wall sized aquarium placed in the sitting room, so that patients can always have something intriguing to look at. There are special visiting rooms to give families privacy, silent alarms set on the beds and doors and, oh yes, funding to fully staff the whole wing with multiple mediwitches twenty-four seven."
Neville was now staring at Graces, along with the rest of the table. The blonde glanced across the table at him for a moment, before looking back down quietly.
"You're a determined woman," Slughorn continued, a proud smile on his face as though Graces were one of his own. "Neeandra told me what you did to get all these people to agree to your deadline. You could run an empire with your business skills, Miss Malfoy."
"And tell me, my dearest," Blaise smiled, taking Graces hand in his own and gaining her eyes. "What is Professor Slughorn referring to? What did you do to get all those people to bend to your will?"
"I don't want to talk about this," Graces hissed, her cheeks turning more and more pink from frustration.
"It's already being discussed," Blaise smiled. "Come, come, Graces, play with us. You wouldn't want to be rude."
Blaise and Graces' eyes were locked together in a challenge. Neville half expected her to say she would behave however she wanted, but it seemed good breeding won and Graces swallowed what seemed to be her pride and offered a forced smile to Slughorn.
"Well, I'm sure Neeandra told you that I had her come to Hogwarts to go over blue prints and such. From there I pit all of the companies—architectural, designers, things of that nature—against one another. I had all of them in the same room and told them what I wanted and when one said it wasn't enough time I raised my offer and asked the next person and so on and so forth until I got the answer I wanted."
"Remarkable," Slughorn breathed. "And—"
"Did you go to the wing?" Neville interrupted distressed. "Did you actually go there?"
"Neville, it's okay," Hermione whispered, placing a hand over his as he trembled from emotion.
Neville shrugged her hand off and met Graces' eyes, hoping to any Gods that would listen that she hadn't. That she wasn't so bold as to think that he would be okay with her invading his privacy like that for whatever reason.
"No, I didn't," Graces answered awkwardly, clearly not comfortable with Neville bringing this up in front of so many people.
"What does it matter to you?" Blaise drawled.
"Neville's parents are patients there," Slughorn answered, causing a few people around to choke on their drink.
"You're parents are there?" Blaise drawled, a look of amusement coming over him. "I thought they died during the war. They were Aurors, weren't they?"
"They were," Slughorn said gloomily. "They were tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange and a few others until they were driven mad. I knew them both. Wrote both their letters of recommendation for the Auror department too. I even suggested to Moody that he keep them together as partners. They were a wonderful pair, both complemented the other perfectly." Neville shrunk in his chair as everyone curiously looked over at him.
The whole school was going to know by tomorrow. It wasn't like when Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Harry found out, most of the people at this table would not keep his secret. But the worst part of it all, the part that had Neville holding his breath so he wouldn't say or do something stupid because of his emotions was the way Slughorn talked about his parents. I knew them both, they were a wonderful pair… past tense. He wanted to stop Slughorn's walk down memory lane by rudely reminding him that his parents were not dead.
"When I first heard the news I was devastated, just devastated. I kept thinking of Frank and Alice when they were my pupils. Frank was a remarkable student, exceptionally talented and Alice... Alice was such a gentle soul," Slughorn became quiet for a moment and Neville continued to stare down under the table. "You must be so overjoyed to hear what Miss Malfoy has done," Slughorn beamed, clearly wanting Neville to say something, but Neville couldn't not when a rock had logged in his throat.
"What made you want to donate to that wing?" Hermione asked, successfully taking the attention away from Neville and back onto Graces.
"Oh, well she didn't go in expecting that ward," Slughorn answered, clearly happy to take over the discussion. "According to Neeandra she got a letter from Miss Malfoy with a sizable donation to the Healer program, as she does each year around this time, and then at the end of the letter she explained she wished to totally re-renovate a department and wanted to know which department received the least funding and staff. And there you have it."
"Bribing your way into the healer program, Miss Malfoy?" Blaise teased, leaning in close to Graces with a familiarity that Neville did not particularly appreciate.
"Doesn't hurt."
"Is that what you want? To be a healer?" Slughorn asked. Graces nodded her head and Slughorn immediately began to talk about his connections with the admissions department, but before he became to carried away Graces stopped him.
"I'm afraid I've taken up all of your dinner conversation," she laughed charmingly. "Perhaps you and I could get together another time to discuss my application to the healer program. Maybe you could look over my transcripts?"
Slughorn seemed delighted at this prospect and Neville wondered if Graces was going to be one of his other trophies to showcase. He imagined she would be if it meant she would get into a healer program. Slughorn was beginning to make his way in conversation around the table, but Neville wasn't the least bit interested in how McLaggen's Uncle was doing and he already knew everything about Hermione's parents being dentists. So his attention was completely on Graces.
He knew the blonde was aware of his eyes and a few times she shot him a warning glare, clearly not wanting him to continue with his staring, but he couldn't help it. He kept thinking about what she did. He couldn't even name the things he was feeling. He wanted to say something to her, she was right in front of him and he couldn't say a word. It was frustrating and confusing beyond all measure.
"So what was the settlement, if I may ask," Blaise murmured, clearly unimpressed with Hermione's description of her parent's profession.
"An estimation of what I would have made in my modeling career."
"And what was the estimation?"
"What do you think?" Graces asked with a wicked smile.
Blaise narrowed his eyes for a moment, before taking out a piece of parchment and quill and writing something down. He slid the paper over to Graces who unfolded it and blushed crimson.
"You're flattering me," she scoffed, throwing the paper playfully at his chest.
"Perhaps," Blaise smirked. "Or perhaps I know more of what you are worth."
"I didn't determine it, my solicitor did. They talked to some professionals and all that," Graces said waving her hand.
"And the outcome was?"
Graces took back the paper that had bounced on the table from her throw and plucked the quill away from Blaise and scribbled down something, that Neville leaned forward to try and read, unfortunately he couldn't get a look. Blaise however hummed an agreement at seeing the figure.
"That's a nice bit of coin."
"Isn't it? I think me submitting the memory of the agency telling me that I would be listed as one of the greats was what solidified the settlement I wanted."
"And you donated all that?" Graces nodded through her sip of wine. "You're some witch," Blaise said. "I hope my mother doesn't hear about this or she will be pushing for me to formally court you."
"She shouldn't. It was anonymous."
"Well, we've seen how well that went."
Graces smiled ruefully before returning her attention to the table. Neville knew he shouldn't be staring, that the last thing he should be doing is gawking at Graces, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Not even when Slughorn said his name three times at the table, his attention was completely captivated by the girl in front of him. Though the sharp kick to his shins from her awoke him pretty quickly.
"Right sorry," he blushed. "Uh-what was your question?"
Slughorn bristled, but asked again what Neville's plans were after Hogwarts.
"Oh, I well, I'm taking an apprenticeship with Professor Sprout."
"For Herbology?" Slughorn asked, clearly not that impressed with Neville's passions.
"Yeah."
"Oh," Slughorn breathed, clearly disappointed. "I just thought that after last year and based on who your father was you would be considering the Auror program."
"Nah," Neville smiled humble. "I don't think I'm cut out to be an Auror. I'm scared of my shadow half the time," he added, chuckling at his own humor. "I would much prefer a quieter life. After my apprenticeship I think I would just like to teach here. Professor Sprout said she is hoping to retire a few years after I graduate, so…" Neville let his words trail off as to what he was hoping for.
Neville, realizing that he had truly bored the party with his ambitions, quieted awkwardly and stared down at his plate. He looked up briefly at Graces who was glaring at him over her dinner to continue. The problem was Neville wasn't sure what he was supposed to be continuing about. Slughorn seemed to have grown bored with Neville and was moving onto dismissing everyone for dessert which he had lined on the other side of the room when Neville remembered what Graces had outlined for him to say when they were in the barn dancing.
"Sorry, I, uh, I have a small business currently. I will probably continue with that after graduation."
"A business?" Slughorn grinned. "Well, why didn't you mention that before?"
"I don't really think of it often," Neville shrugged. "It's more of an arrangement then a business, but it's doing well I suppose."
"What is your business?"
"I sell my spelled flowers to a muggle perfume company. My flowers give off more scent than the ones the muggles grow so they buy from me."
"Neville, is the perfume you gave me from the company that buys your flowers?" Hermione asked excitedly. Neville nodded. "It's lovely. You didn't tell me that it was your flowers that made it."
"I knew," Luna smiled dreamily, smelling her wrist. "He gave me a bottle as well."
Luna held out her arm as though offering the table a smell, but everyone, minus Harry and Ginny, declined.
"Where's my bottle?" Ginny asked, playfully giving Neville a glare.
"In my trunk. I have yet to get a moment alone with you, so I planned on giving it to you on the train."
Ginny seemed satisfied with his answer and Professor Slughorn again dismissed the table for dessert and mingling, making sure to grab Neville from the rest of the group and talk to him about some contacts he may be interested in.
Neville nodded along to what Slughorn was saying to him, but he had no desire to have his small arrangement become an empire. He sold the flowers he had to the one perfume company and he was happy with just that. He didn't want anything bigger than what was happening now. The extra coin was nice, but if he made this into anything like what Slughorn was saying he would have to dedicate much more time to it and he would much rather focus on his apprenticeship and a certain blonde. Neville watched as Blaise and Graces talked to two other Slytherin students in the corner. He so desperately wanted a moment alone with her. He wasn't even sure if they were still meeting tonight. He had to talk to her.
What she did for his parents, for him, was just. He didn't know what to say. He was still at a loss, but he knew he wanted to say something. Lucky for him, Slughorn excused himself from conversation just as Graces walked away from her group for another sweet. Neville walked over and looked at the pastries and pretended to be interested in the ones beside Graces.
"Graces, I—"
"Now is not the time," she murmured not even allowing him to finish.
"I know, but I just wanted to say that," Neville paused and tried to swallow some of the emotion building in his voice. "I can never tell you how much this means to me and I also can't believe you did that and I… you really shouldn't have and if I had known you were going to I never would have—"
Neville paused his speech as Graces hand went over his. It was such a simple touch and yet it spoke sonnets. He looked up at her quicksilver eyes and suddenly couldn't breathe.
"We can discuss this tonight," Graces whispered. "I'll see you tonight." She hesitated a moment, looking up at him with a type of fear he hadn't seen in her before. "Happy Christmas, Neville."
And with that she was gone. Neville watched her go, trying to decipher what had just happened if he had heard correctly.
"What was that about?" Harry asked frowning slightly at what he had seen. "Was Malfoy being nice?"
"Yeah," Neville murmured hollowly, his head spinning from Graces words. "I thanked her for the ward and she-she…" Said my given name... Neville became quiet for a moment and turned to look at Harry. "So, uh, you and Luna, huh?" Neville asked, knowing full well nothing was going on, but wanting the attention off him.
Harry suddenly became beet red.
"Yeah, well, I just... we're just here as friends," Harry muttered awkwardly.
"Oh, good."
"Good?" Harry frowned.
"Luna's kind of adopted me as her 'brother'. As her chosen fictive kin I am required to dislike you if you date her and keep an eye on you two."
Both boys shared a small laugh over their drinks before Luna joined them.
"What's so funny?" she asked, her big eyes looking at the two of them.
"Just reminding Harry here to be a gentleman."
"It looks like you should give that talk to McLaggen," Luna pointed out, as Hermione escaped from behind some curtains. Neville scowled and took a step forward, but Harry stopped him.
"I think I can handle this one," he sighed, heading over to where Hermione disappeared. Harry didn't get far, because as soon as he neared the curtain hiding Hermione Filch barged through the doors.
"I caught this one trying to gatecrash!" Filch proclaimed, shaking Draco by the collar.
"Let go of me!" Malfoy barked, slapping the older man's hands away. "I wasn't gatecrashing!"
"I caught him lurking right outside the room, peering in from a crack!" Filch informed Slughorn, ignoring Draco. "I already sent Mrs. Norris to his head of house, he will be coming soon."
Graces moved away from the back of the room to join her brother, a look of shocked concern stamped on her face. Neville saw the brief glimmer of shock on Draco's face at seeing her and frowned as Draco turned his sight to Blaise.
"I wasn't gatecrashing," he proclaimed more confidently, glaring at Blaise in a way that sent a chill down everyone's spine. "I just came for my sister. Graces, we're leaving." Graces frowned and opened her mouth as though to protest, but Draco held up a hand and silenced her. "Now, Graces."
Graces turned and set her drink down before hurrying over to her brother.
"Draco, wait!" Blaise called, hurrying over to the twins. "I—"
"Get away from me!" Draco snarled, pulling Graces behind him. "You didn't even ask! Even Nott had the decency to talk to me before asking her to accompany him to the ball! There are rules! Standards that if you—"
"It wasn't a date! I swear it was just—"
"I don't believe you," Draco growled, turning towards the door.
"You have to have your brother approve your dates?" Ginny mocked, staring at Graces who blushed slightly.
"It's proper."
"It's outdated," Ginny laughed.
"Maybe, but unlike you I didn't arrive to a party late, eyes all puffy, because some boy wronged me. It wouldn't happen in my situation because my brother would ensure I was treated properly."
Ginny flinched at Graces' comments but held her chin up.
"I understand that you in particular clearly do not care for tradition, but I do."
"I don't know what girl would care to have her brother or father decide who she can see," Ginny retorted smugly. "I would rather make my own mistakes. I don't need daddy or big brother to come clean up my messes and I sure don't need them taking care of a bloke for me."
"It's smart," Graces proclaimed. "Who knows and loves you more? Romantic love blinds you, dating without family is like trying to find a diamond in a dark cave. Someone needs to look out for you. Not to mention the rules for courting are so strict any guy that goes through them has to care about you on some level. The three months of separation weeds out who don't like that." Graces snapped her fingers for emphasis, but Ginny didn't seem at all impressed.
"There's a three month span of separation?" Hermione asked distastefully.
"Now-now," Slughorn quieted. "Let's not turn up our noses at such an important part of our culture. When I was younger we still upheld these values, and I for one feel that it's refreshing to see that it's still practiced."
"Thank you, professor," Draco bowed. "I appreciate that."
"Of course," Slughorn smiled, appearing to like the drama that had broken out at his party. "I remember going through the three months of separation, it really isn't so bad. Sure, you don't get to talk or see the girl you're courting, but the family is very involved. I remember I would have dinner with the girl's father every weekend and I must have seen her brothers close to every day. It really is like an interview. I understand Mr. Malfoy being so upset." Draco nodded, but pressed Graces towards the door. "Please, stay. Both of you. I'm sure Mr. Zabini and you could work this out over some wine and your sister was having such a grand time. I insist you both stay."
Draco wasn't sure if he needed to be relieved at this turn of events or wary. He stood calculating what his next move should be. Take Graces and leave, abandoning the idea of placing the poisoned mead with Slughorn's other gifts, or stay and wait for an opportune time.
Now or never.
Draco nodded that he would stay and pulled Graces closer to him for support.
"Wonderful!" Slughorn proclaimed, handing him a glass of firewhiskey and retreating back to the party and leaving him, Graces and Blaise in awkward silence.
"Draco, let me explain," Blaise started cautiously. "It wasn't a date. Graces asked if I would take her earlier today, I had originally planned on taking another girl, but she was insistent I bring her and—"
"She's my sister. She's my sister and you're supposed to be my friend."
"Draco, I would never touch Graces. I swear on my life. I know I flirt and play with her, but it's all a game."
"Oh, so she's a game to you."
"No!" Blaise pleaded. "No. I mean it's just fun. She knows it and I know it."
"Fun?" Draco questioned, his teeth now bared dangerously.
"No! Not like that! I love Graces. I love her like you love her. She could be my own flesh and blood. I have no intentions of touching her, I swear."
Draco knew all of this to be true, he honestly trusted Blaise around Graces more than most people. He liked Blaise, respected him, and at the end of the day Draco knew him to care about Graces in the sincerest form. His sister had a knack for finding loyal friends. But he had to make this seem real, he needed everyone here to believe that he sincerely was there because he thought Blaise was being inappropriate.
"Draco," Graces whispered. "He's not lying. It's all true, I asked. This isn't a date."
Draco eyed his sister for a moment before demanding that Blaise leave them in private, he turned his back away from any on lookers and tilted Graces chin up so he could look at her square in the eye.
"I know," he revealed sternly. "I'm not here because of you."
"Then-then why are you here?"
"My mission."
Graces had no time to ask questions before Snape came through the doors, an extremely sour look on his face as he saw Draco standing there. Draco had forgotten that Filch had sent for his head of house and inwardly cursed as the older man moved towards him. Luckily, Slughorn seemed all too happy to pull Snape away and explain the situation.
Draco knew that Snape wasn't going to buy the story though and he slunk his way over to where the other gifts were placed and left the bottle. No one should have been able to see, other than Graces who had walked with him and blocked any other person's view. The table where people were leaving gifts was thankfully one of the tables that held pictures of some of Slughorn's more famous pupils. Draco and Graces just had to feign interest in one of the Quidditch players pictures displayed and there laid his excuse in being there.
Draco didn't jump when he felt a firm hand go to his shoulders and dark voice demand they leave. He had been expecting Snape to be furious and he also expected the man to take him from the party. The two of them walked towards the door with Graces following behind. Draco didn't care though, it was done. He was done. This was all going to be over soon and no one would have any idea who was to blame. He and Graces were—
A loud crash broke him away from his thoughts and he turned to see Neville Longbottom standing by the gift table with the bottle of mead Draco had just placed down shattered all around him.
Hope you all enjoyed! Don't forget to follow/review! Also, I am sooooo excited for the next few chapters coming up!