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 Lil Miss Sunshine14, char170217, A regrettable decision, infinateconstellations, Anniversary (holy crap has it really been two years?), omgitsfranklin, Bleedingheart2xlola, Lizzy B, Bharm, S8xyvriska, Blue Luver5000, Phoenix, 19irene96, sonia, orangezauber, Annyjackson19 and N3Zum1 for the reviews and messages!

Chapter 71

Graces stared up at Gryffindor tower from edge of the Forbidden Forest. She breathed in the crisp air and let her mind float with the small bits of snow falling softly down like stardust from the gods. The world was beautiful. People were ugly, but the world kept its immortal gleam. She had been standing under the canopy of branches for hours watching nothing but the snow fall and hearing only the soft whispers of the wind.

Her thumb rubbed the arch of her broomstick and she felt the wood hum from the touch. She closed her eyes as the wind, moon and stars called to her, beckoned her to cast off her worries into the open sky and leave them for the gods. But she still wasn't ready, not yet. She needed to feel and remember everything for a little longer.

She hadn't cried when she emerged from the pensieve. She was shaking like a leaf and she lost her stomach a few times, but she kept the tears at bay. She wasn't sure how she did it, but she did. Both boys had kept their eyes carefully on her, as though they suspected worse than her just losing her breakfast on the castle floor.

The images and screams still echoed in the crevices of her mind. She tried not to let the memories get too near to her thoughts, but when she pushed them away she was left with Graham's haunted eyes. He had not said a word to her all through Draco's quiet explanations and Draco didn't ask him to. Of all the memories she saw Graham's were the worst of them. Draco had seen death and torture, but Graham had bore witness to atrocities that made her thank the gods her brother had not allowed them to run away.

When she had finally left the Room of Requirement, thankful to be alone and have a moment, Graham had hurried after her. At first she had just stood there in the hall waiting for him to say something, but after a few moments she understood he wanted her to say something to him.

"There was nothing you could have done, Graham," she rasped, the image of a girl only five years her senior being dragged by her hair naked into an empty room for a fate worse than death was seared into her very soul. "Nothing."

"You once said that Snape would burn in hell for the evil he had allowed," Graham murmured quietly into the darkness of the hall. "I've made peace with what I will face in the afterlife. My only concern now is whether you could have peace being by my side in this life."

"What you did, you did for your family," Graces reminded, her voice ringing in the silence as she walked over towards him. "There was nothing you could have done for any of those people, Graham. Nothing. Any act to save them would have been condemning your own loved ones. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"I've killed people, Graces." If Graham was the type of bloke to cry, Graces was sure he would have shed a tear at that statement. "My hands have been caked in blood. It's more than I just allowed evil to happen. I've done evil."

"What you have done is saved your family," Graces stressed, taking Graham's hand in her own. "That's not evil, Graham. And I for one am proud to call you my friend and honored that you would even think to have me as anything more."

Graham had stood there staring at her for what seemed like eternity. It was different looking into Graham's face. He showed nothing. It wasn't like when she looked into Neville's and could see and feel what he was thinking. When she looked up at Graham she was lost. She hoped her words helped him, prayed she had given him peace, but there was no way to tell. Graham had just taken his hand out of hers and turned back to the room to join Draco.

There was no smile, no nod of acknowledgment, nothing. He just took his hand away and left.

The cold around her seemed to increase at the memory and Graces pulled her cloak closer to her body before looking back up at the soft glow from the window of the tower. It was well into the night now. She had spent the afternoon and evening mulling over all that she now knew. She avoided going back to the room. She wasn't ready to face Neville, to answer his questions and listen to what he had to say.

So she had gone to the dungeons, grabbed her winter clothes and headed out to the Quidditch pitch for her broom, but she had yet to take off from the ground. She just walked around the grounds and considered everything about her situation. Flying was a release and she wasn't ready to let go yet. She wasn't ready to feel whole.

It was during her long aimless walking that she noticed the light on in Gryffindor tower. And from the moment she saw it, she wasn't able to walk far enough away for it to be out of sight. It had to be Neville in the room. There were no other students in the castle. She wondered why he chose to be there and not in the room they shared.

She moved closer to the tower, the snow crunching beneath her boots as the wind blew around her body, calling her to play. Her heart felt too heavy, too sore, too drained to be able to let go. But the wind didn't care. It continued to call.

She reached her gloved hand out and touched the gray stone of the tower. She could fly up there right now and knock on the window. Neville was less than a moment away from her. She would have to face him eventually. Maybe it would be easier to face him now, now when they had the whole night and an open sky.

Before she could overthink her decision she mounted her broom and pushed up, slowing down as she neared the window.

Neville was lying in his bed scowling up at the ceiling with his arms crossed. He was still fully dressed. Even his shoes had remained on his feet and though it may look like he was laying down relaxing Graces could see the tension rippling off him. She had a feeling that he was going through everything he was going to ask and talk to her about. Her stomach clenched and the idea of quietly drifting back down to the ground flitted through her mind a few times, but in the end she knocked quietly on the window pane and held her breath as Neville sat up from his bed and stared out at her.

She awkwardly raised her hand in a greeting and it took Neville a few moments to grasp the fact that she was there on her broom, outside the tower, waiting for him, but he eventually stood and opened the window.

"Hi," she offered nervously, unsure what else to say or where to start.

"Hi."

Graces waited for him to say more, but he just stood there in the window staring at her.

"Are you going to invite me in?" Neville hesitated and looked back into the room unsurely, but after a moment he nodded and moved to allow her entrance. Graces moved to go through the window and hissed with pain as her head smacked into the window sill.

She damned her bad eye as Neville caught her hand and helped her through the window. She wouldn't have fallen to the ground, she didn't hit herself that hard. Hell she had been hit harder by bludgers and not fallen off her broom, but it didn't stop that moment of sheer terror from touching Neville's face.

She blushed as Neville kept asking how she could fly her head straight into the wall like that. She mumbled about how she wasn't paying attention, refusing to reveal the truth that she had kept hidden for the past few months. Living without depth perception was an everyday challenge. Some days she wished she could let her pride go and take a fake eye and other days that thought seemed too cruel to bear.

She hissed and smacked away Neville's hand as he went to examine the goose egg forming on her brow.

"It's just a bump."

Neville stared at her incredulously for a few moments, before dropping his hands to his sides. Graces lifted a brow to the amount of effort that small movement seemed to take from him and entered more into the room. It was exactly what she expected, really, disgustingly decked out in Gryffindor colors and completely unkempt.

"You Gryffindor boys are messy," she murmured, her hand moving to a near bed whose curtains seemed to have been bundled hurriedly.

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Neville did his best not to cringe as Graces' hands touched Harry's bed curtains. He felt his throat go dry as her eyes surveyed all that was around her. He never thought of this part of Graces, the cold, regal part, the part that screamed Lucius and Narcissa. He saw her as just Graces, but now… seeing her near Harry's bed, knowing that she had just been in another part of the castle discussing Death Eater business… Neville felt sick as her hands grazed against Harry's nightstand.

Graces eyes turned upward and her silver orbs met his and a flash of something shone there, before she removed her hand and just stared at him.

He knew she was waiting for him to say something, he felt like she was daring him to say something. He swallowed hard and kept his mouth shut. Graces let out a slow breath and moved away from Harry's area, her steps silent with rage.

"If you didn't trust me to be here all you would have had to do is say you would meet me elsewhere." Her words were gentle, but Neville could feel the razors in them.

"I trust you to be here," Neville murmured quietly. "I wouldn't have allowed you in if I didn't. We wouldn't be together if I didn't. I trust you."

Graces turned and Neville held his breath as she seemed to be calculating her words.

"You trust me. You just are aware of what I'm capable of," she whispered, turning her head away from him and towards Dean's bed. She lifted the photo he had on his nightstand and examined the faces looking up at her from the glossy unmoving paper.

"Dean has a lot of sisters," she commented dryly, placing the photo down. "Seven. How outrageous. I thought the Weasleys were bad." Neville shrugged and again tried to ignore his nerves. "All muggle… no touch of magic?"

"They have a different father," Neville rasped, coughing to clear his throat and restore some vibrato in his voice. "Dean suspects his father must have been a wizard… but he ran off when his mother was pregnant. She had him and he got his letter, so it's assumed he was a wizard. A coward of one too, if you ask me," Neville declared harshly. "Leaving a woman that's with his child. It couldn't have been easy for her. But, um, Dean's stepfather is a very good man. Dean says he's always treated him like his own, even adopted him when he married his mum."

Graces nodded and placed the silver frame down, her eyes distant as wheels seemed to turn in her head.

"Maybe he didn't run off. Maybe he's dead."

Neville scowled, but didn't get the chance to ask any questions, seeing as Graces seemed to be done with the conversation. She moved around his bed like a cold wind on a sunny day. There was something so sad about her and at the same time so timeless and beautiful. He knew he should still be wary, but he also knew her and the girl he knew wouldn't deceive him like that. Others, in a heartbeat, but not him. He believed he had earned the privilege of being close with her and with that privilege was fierce loyalty.

"I was going to go flying this evening and I was wondering if you would like to join me."

Neville felt his mouth drop and quickly shut in.

"You want me to fly with you?" he asked a bit panicked. Graces inclined her head slightly and continued waiting for an answer. "You're serious."

"I am."

"Do you not remember me in flying lessons?"

"You can join me on my broom. I'll fly."

"Absolutely not," Neville cried, his cheeks turning the same maroon as the curtains.

Part of Graces' lips quivered in a smirk, but she schooled it away before offering Neville her brother's broom.

"Your brother would murder me if he ever found out I rode his broom."

"Then I will ride his and you can ride mine."

"I'm an awful flyer," Neville reminded, going back to the heart of the argument.

"And yet you refuse to let me fly. You really are being unreasonable, Longbottom," Graces quipped, her lips now unable to hide her smirk.

"Stop toying with me. You can't seriously want me to fly with you."

Neville was definitely panicking. The same feeling he had all of first year before each flying lesson was creeping up on him. He felt sick remembering himself wobbling on that damn broom, up in the air with all of his classmates while the Slytherins laughed at him. Neville's cheeks began burning even brighter when he remembered Graces herself making fun of him. Damn if she wasn't a vicious little thing.

"I do want you to fly with me," Graces began gently. "I need to be up there tonight. I need the open air and the feeling of being small. I need to think and I want you to be there with me." Neville looked up to see all the humor and teasing gone from Graces' face and the blonde stared at him hopefully. "Please come with me, Neville. I realize we have much to discuss and-and I don't think I could bear it here. I've always loved flying. I like being away from the ground and up near the heavens. It makes me feel… brave," Graces settled slowly. "As though I am capable of doing and saying anything. I feel daring and invisible up there, that's probably why I take risks on the Quidditch pitch and why I'm not afraid of quaffles going to my head."

"The things you are going to say to me, your rules, they frighten me. The things I've learned about tonight—" Graces stopped short and her eyes went somewhere unknown. "I need to be up there. Will you come with me? I don't care that you're not a good flyer," she whispered. "I just care that you're near."

Neville didn't know why he agreed, but he did. Maybe it was how hushed her voice was, how dead her eyes seemed, or maybe it was because he loved her and he could never say no to her. Especially when she whispered please and I just care that you're near. So that's how he ended up with Graces' broom above the great lake staring at the all-seeing moon. Graces hadn't said a word since they left the tower and something about the way she looked told him he shouldn't speak until she began.

The air around them was biting, even fully bundled with warming charms he could feel the frost nipping away at him, but Graces didn't even shiver. She just sat on her broom looking out over the lake. If Neville wasn't concentrating so hard on maintaining his balance on the broom he may have found the sight around him stunning, the moon high in the sky setting the snow on the ground shimmering, but he was so focused on staying in the sky and the girl a few feet above him that he didn't care about the transcendent beauty around him.

Neville wished she would speak, wished she would look down at him and say something. Hell, at this point he even wished she would cry. This felt wrong, all wrong. Her unnatural stillness, her vacant stares, it wasn't Graces. He felt like someone had ripped her soul out of her and he desperately wanted it back. He had tried to gain her attention a few times, saying her name to wake her up from this trance, but she didn't stir. She just continued staring.

"I won't tell you anything about what my brother and I discussed tonight," she said quietly, her eyes fixed on the navy blue waters far off in the distance. "There is nothing to discuss on that end and demanding answers from me on that will only make me walk away." Neville looked up at her through the ringing silence that was piercing his ears. No hint of emotion, just cold. "I love my brother. Draco is everything to me. I won't betray him."

Graces looked away from the scene before her down to her hands gripping her broom, the first sign of emotion touching her face. "I'm a poor excuse for a sister," she rasped, her lips tightening into a straight line at the declaration. "Truly I am. I'm a liar and-and I've been so selfish. I have taken pleasure where I could when my brother had nothing. I should have been there more for him. I should have tried harder when he pushed me away. I should have—" Graces' voice trailed off and Neville shakily moved closer to her, placing a hand on her back despite the fact it caused him to feel more out of control on the broom. "I feel like a whore," Graces choked.

Neville almost toppled off the broom and immediately cried out his protests, but Graces just shook her head and silenced him with her hand.

"It doesn't matter what you say because it's how I feel." She shook. "I've betrayed my brother and have no intentions of stopping or telling him. I've just thought of my wants and my needs and sought comfort and escape in the most carnal way imaginable. I've taken you to bed countless times and left my brother alone in the most awful of situations."

"Graces—"

"I was just so… lost. So lost," Graces whispered, closing her eyes to keep the tears at bay. "It felt good to leave my troubles and let you take them away for an hour. It-it gave an hour to regroup. After I could think straight and not want to just sink in my sadness. It let me sleep at night. Gods damn me I just wanted to sleep," she ended morosely.

Neville wanted to hold her. He wanted to pull her in and tell her that she was wrong. That what she did was not any sort of betrayal. It was her business and there was nothing wrong with needing an escape from a situation she was far too young to be dealing with. He wanted to tell her that any god that damned her wasn't worth the dirt she kneeled on, but every time he reached to hold her he felt like he was about to fall off his broom.

"You are not a traitor," he growled fiercely. "You are not a whore. Any god that says otherwise isn't a god worth worshipping." Neville grabbed her broom handle to force her eyes onto his. "You have betrayed no one. Who you take to bed is your business. Just like it's my business that I take you to bed and sleep in the same room as Harry Potter. Just as it is my business I hold you and then go home to my family and hold them. I realize that you have this very twisted way of viewing family loyalty, but—Graces, look at me—you have done nothing wrong. Just as I have done nothing wrong."

"And what we have—" Neville continued, pulling her broom up to his and gently caressing her cheek. "—has left the realm of just carnal, if it was ever only that to begin with." He could feel her breath mingling with his own and his heart broke as her silver eyes looked to him hopefully, like she wanted to believe everything he just said. "I would kiss you now, but I'm terrified to lean in. I'm pretty sure I will lose my balance on this damn thing."

Graces let out a sad laugh, but didn't lean in. She just let their breath continue to mingle in the freezing air.

"What are your conditions?" she asked quietly, her body rigid with apprehension.

Neville could feel his heart clench as she braced herself for his words and he moved his hand to hers.

"I'm not going anywhere, Graces," he promised. "I'm just saying what I need from this."

"And if I refuse to give it?"

"We will have a lot of long nights. Yelling may be involved."

Neville didn't know if he could call Graces expression a smile, but it was close and there was definite relief at hearing his words.

"I told you once I would never ask for more than you could give," he reminded. "I will respect your boundaries. And that means I won't ask you to tell me what Draco is doing, but, like I said, I do have conditions."

Graces took a shuddering breath and nodded for Neville to continue.

"Did-did you know the Weasley's were going to be attacked on Christmas?"

Graces shook her head and Neville let out a relieved breath. She didn't know. He hadn't realized how much it was killing him internally thinking that she had known and said nothing.

"Thank Merlin," he breathed, leaning back on his broom and closing his eyes.

"But," Graces began quietly, sending a flutter of fear in his heart. "I wouldn't have told you if I did."

And there it was, what they had allowed themselves to forget time and time again. They were divided. It was easy to forget about the war and the people surrounding them when they were alone and in their own little world, but after earlier reality had invaded their dream world.

"My other condition—" Neville began, now worried that Graces would refuse. "—is that you have to tell me if my friends and family are in danger."

Graces sighed and looked up at the stars as she chewed the inside of her lip. Neville could feel his palms become sweaty and his nerves were so much that he was almost shaking. He was too scared to so much as breath as Graces seemed to be considering his request. No, not considering. Fighting a battle to say no.

"I will always tell you if your family is in danger," she nodded. "I would have done that even without your request, but your friends…" Neville swallowed hard as Graces' voice trailed off. "I will give you three," she promised. "Name three friends, any beside Harry Potter. I can give you three."

"Why not all?" Neville demanded, his heart unable to choose just three of his friends worth living. "Why—"

"Because we are at war, Neville, and a good number of your friends will die by the end of it. If I gave you all I would be added to the list of dead. My brother's heart couldn't take that and Thomas and Octavian need me. All would get me caught. This is treason," Graces reminded. "I'm agreeing to be disloyal to one of the most powerful wizards ever to be born. Three is a great risk for me and I am giving it to you."

When she said it like that Neville felt wrong asking for the three. But he couldn't bear not asking.

"Choose wisely," Graces reminded, her voice giving no hints.

"Luna." That one was easy. He of course would choose Luna first, but the others… The others were far harder. He felt wrong doing this, rating the people in his life, choosing some of his friends to potentially save and leaving the rest. "Hermione." It should be Hermione, Neville told himself. She was a great friend and-and she was muggleborn. Muggleborn and friends with Harry Potter, she needed the protection. Neville thought of Harry. He couldn't choose him, but he wished he could. He wanted to save him if it came to it. Just like he was willing to give his life in the Ministry for him, he wanted to help him again. Harry was hope. And Harry needs Ron. "And Ro—"

"Ron is a pureblood and his family was just attacked," Graces interrupted. "I bet anything they are very prepared for anything else to come. A whole family filled with witches and wizards." Neville stared at the blonde, unsure of what she meant. "There are other people around you, Neville. People who are much more defenceless. People who when the Dark Lord begins taking over will have no way to defend themselves, people who will be at the mercy of the merciless."

"Are-are you suggesting I choose a—" Neville paused as he let his mind form around what Graces' was insinuating. "—muggleborn?" Graces didn't reply. She just waited for him to make his final choice. The problem was Neville didn't know who that should be. There were so many people he could think of. Seamus was a half-blood, so by what Graces was saying he was in less danger than Dean. But Hannah's mother was in fact a muggle, married to a wizard from a pureblood family. She may be the same blood status as Seamus, but many people like the Malfoys did not agree with Mr. Abbott marrying a muggle and bringing her into their world.

"Colin Creevey." Neville decided at last. Graces frowned at the choice, but Neville just shrugged. "He's just a kid," he murmured. "And he's muggleborn. His parents know nothing about this world and-and have no way of protecting him from what's to come."

Graces nodded and her voice broke as she proclaimed his younger brother would be included as well. Neville opened his mouth to thank her, but closed it. It felt wrong to thank her for this. This wasn't much. He couldn't help but think of everyone else. He didn't dare demand more though. She was right. This was a huge risk on her part.

"The spell is broken, isn't it?" Graces asked quietly, staring at nothing and yet seeming to see everything. "Our small little world where we could put this all behind, where we could just be happy for a few hours. It's gone, isn't it, cast off into the shadows that waited to swallow it up."

Neville stared at the girl before him. The world could never see what he saw in her. They couldn't feel how his heart beat for her.

"The shadows were always there," he began, his mind clearing for the first time that night. "Reality has swallowed us before and it will again and again. But Graces," Neville reached out his hand and held her's tight. "We have a light, and happiness can always be found if one only remembers to turn on the light."

Graces was silent for a few moments before turning her silver eyes to his.

"Did you just quote Dumbledore to me?" she deadpanned.

"Yeah, I did," Neville grinned. "Wise man."

A brief something flashed across her face before she looked away; a whole new onslaught of tears causing her to shake. Neville didn't know what he should do or say, but before he could attempt a thing Graces' arms were around him and she was holding him like an anchor held down a ship. Or maybe he was the anchor and she was the ship. Maybe he was the one anchoring her. Either way he held her just as tight, not caring that he was surely going to fall off his broom if she let go.

"There will come a time when you will hate me," she sobbed, hugging him so hard he couldn't breathe. "You will hate me, Neville. Trust me, you will hate me. And-and when that time comes I want you to know I will understand. I will understand and I will never forget you. You will be free to hate and loathe me your whole life, but-but I will miss you for the rest of mine."

"Graces, what—"

"I will miss you," Graces repeated, pulling away slightly so he could see her tear streaked face. "My lover… my friend. I will miss you and I want you to know when the time comes, I will hate myself just as much."

"I will never hate you," Neville swore, one of his hands finding it's way into her soft hair. "Never," he whispered savagely. "Whatever you say. Whatever you do. I will never hate you, Graces Malfoy."

"Even when I'm a Death Eater?" Graces challenged.

"Even when you're a pawn."

Neville didn't know how long it took him to get Graces down from the sky. It took what felt like a solid hour, but he was sure it was more like fifteen minutes. All she did was cry, and hold him and he slowly and very ungracefully descended down to the snowy ground where she cried even more and let him hold her in his lap as she shattered the quiet with her desperate cries. A few times she begged him to repeat what he had said and eventually Neville just continued to whisper that he would never hate her, that she was a pawn and after a while he added Draco. He didn't know what made him include Draco in his promises, but something told him to.

Two sides of the same coin. It had rang in his ears all day. They were a package deal, and though he knew nothing really about Draco, though the Slytherin had no inkling of his true involvement with his sister, Neville did feel something for the other boy. He felt connected with him. He hadn't really before, but seeing him with Graces, hearing the way they talked and spoke to one another… It was weird, but he knew that he and Graces were too intertwined. If he loved her, he had to care about Draco. The evils Draco would do needed to be forgiven just as easily as he would forgive her for her sins. He didn't know what was to come, what this task was, why she believed he was going to hate her, or why Draco believed that he was damned. But he did know he needed to love the way Graces and Draco loved, unconditionally, with everything he had, and he had to love both of them.

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Images continued to flash before her eyes as Neville carried her back to the room. She had stopped sobbing, but it didn't stop a few tears from spilling out. Neville didn't ask any questions, as she had stipulated. He just carried her through the castle and held her close to his chest. She wasn't broken. She knew she wasn't broken. She had just once again been brought to her knees. She was strong in front of Draco, in front of Graham. She had been strong those months ago for Thomas and Octavian, but she didn't have to be strong now. She was with Neville now and she could trust him to be her strength.

It was wrong. She knew it was wrong. Neville didn't deserve this. One morning he would wake up with the news that Albus Dumbledore was dead… dead at the hands of the Malfoy twins, and he would hate her. She nuzzled her nose into Neville's chest and tried not to let that feeling overwhelm her. She would deserve that hate, deserve it for aiding in killing a good man and deserve it for allowing another good man to care about her when she was not deserving of it.

When they walked into the little apartment in their corner of the world Neville carried her straight into the bathroom. He sat down on the toilet with her and slowly began drawing her a warm bath. Graces watched from the crook of his neck as he poured in the oil he had made for her and checked the temperature of the water, never once putting her down or using his other arm. He worked silently, with purpose. She couldn't bring herself to say anything. She was scared if she opened her mouth she would tell him what she saw in the pensieve, that she would bring all the horrors she had seen out into the light and beg him to take her away.

And she knew that Neville would do just that. He would pack her things, his things and get Draco Thomas and Octavian and whisk them away to the safe house where they would be safe for a few weeks, maybe months if they were lucky, before they were caught. Before they were caught and-and—

"Graces," Neville whispered gently. His voice drew her away from the images that flashed in her mind of what happened to traitors. "You're shaking."

"Cold," she lied, deciding that it didn't matter anymore if she lied. Being a liar was the least of the sins she would commit.

"Let's get you warm then." Neville's soft kiss on her cheek made her feel sick with guilt, but she didn't protest as he kissed her again on her lips, because as much as it swarmed her with guilt, it also made her heart lighter.

She watched him the whole time he undressed her, taking in every part of him. The curve of his jaw, the color of his hair, the shape of his nose, the tender way he unbuttoned her blouse, the way he held her feet for a moment after taking off her socks, determined to warm her soles. She didn't want to forget any small detail of him. When he was gone she wanted the memories.

He lowered her into the water the way her father use to lower her into bed and a lump grew in her throat as she imagined Neville older with a child of his own. She envied the woman he would marry and she envied her children for having the father she had always wanted for her own. She could have loved him in another life. She knew that now. She could haved loved Neville Longbottom. She would have loved and adored him. She would have married him as soon as she graduated from being a healer and given him as many children as his heart desired. They would have had a fairytale love. Like her mother and father, maybe even greater because he didn't kill people for fun, but it could never be.

She could never love Neville. She would never choose him over others. Love meant everything. She loved Draco with everything. There was not one thing she wouldn't do for Draco, but there were many things she wouldn't do for Neville. She would never choose him. Choosing him meant turning her back on Draco, and she wouldn't do that. She wasn't even willing to tell him if his friends were in danger. She only gave him three. It was going to tear him apart, watching his friends slowly disappear. She knew the Dark Lord was going to start rounding up muggleborns and halfbloods as soon as possible once he got the Ministry. If she loved him she would warn him now. She would tell him everything she knew. She would tell him about how Dumbledore was going to die, how the motions had been set to gain the Ministry and from there he could plan. He could save the people he loved and-and there would be no secrets between them.

"I have one more request," Neville breathed, moving the sponge to her shoulder and showering that area with warmth and soap.

"Oh," Graces rasped, her heart already pounding.

"You have to believe me." Graces frowned and looked over to where Neville was kneeling. "Believe that no matter what is to come I won't hate you. Believe that-that I am aware of what is ahead and that I want to be here. Because I do, Graces. I want to be here and I will be here for as long as you want me."

Graces turned away, but Neville pulled her chin back towards him.

"I want us to be together. I want to be your safe haven from whatever haunts you."

"Neville, you don't—"

"Don't let this ruin us," he begged, his hands now holding hers. "Don't."

"I want us to be happy," he continued. "And I know that now is not the time or the place, but I don't care. I don't want us to slip into something tragic when things are getting so good. Stay with me. Let this be our safe haven, Graces. Please."

"Turn on the light," Graces whispered, thinking of the quote.

"We can keep the shadows at bay together."

He said it with so much conviction that she found herself believing it for a moment. And maybe they could.

"You need this," Neville reminded. "You need an escape. And I want to be it. I want to make you smile, Graces. I want to make you happy. Let me continue making you happy."

"It's not that simple, Neville," she sniffed, her throat filled with gravel. "If you knew what I knew, if you saw what I saw… you would understand."

"Let me try."

"You want to be my escape? You want this to be... what exactly? An escape from reality?"

"Why not?"

"It's not real then, Neville."

"It's more real," Neville countered. "This is us. This is real. What you are out there is a lie. What you are in here is the truth."

"It shouldn't be like this," Neville continued, his voice shaking from rage. "It's not right. You're being forced into this war, forced to be someone you don't want to be. You have to pretend everyday in the halls. You wear an endless array of masks. In front of Draco you even have to wear a mask." Graces held her breath to keep from breaking at the truth in Neville's words. "I want this to be a place where you can just be you. I want to be the person you can be yourself with."

"I-I want to be teenagers," he proclaimed a bit more quietly. "Not war-ridden teenagers… Normal teenagers. At least for a few hours a day."

"You could be a normal teenager everyday," Graces reminded quietly. "If you left, you could be normal everyday."

"I wasn't happy without you."

"That's not true," Graces shook. "You—"

"I was lonely. I was alone. I felt like everything I said was under a microscope. I was so lonely."

It hurt. She was surprised how much it hurt to hear Neville say he had been hurting. She remembered him telling her he was lonely, but now hearing it… She could feel his soul calling to hers almost. She wanted to caress his face, but he was still holding her hands and he was holding them so tight now that she didn't dare move them.

"Please believe me when I tell you I want this. I want you. Nothing of what is to come will change that. Believe me when I say I want this to continue, that I want to be your escape. And believe me when I say that it is not solely for your benefit. I want you, Graces."

She didn't know what to say. All she could focus on was his eyes and his mother's ring on her finger, his mother's ring that he was gently rubbing with his thumb as he held her hands. Neville begged her to agree and seeing his eyes begin to water was what pushed her to say yes. She may not be able to give him everything, but she wanted to give him what she could. She didn't believe for a second he would not hate her when Dumbledore died, but she nodded anyways.

Neville let out some sound of relief before his lips found hers. She wanted him to stay and continue kissing her, but he broke away telling her to come out when she was ready, promising to be just outside of the door waiting. She wondered why he was giving her this moment alone, but Neville didn't wait for a response. He just left.

Graces sat in the tub for a moment before deciding she didn't want to be alone. She had been alone all evening. Now she just wanted to have Neville near. She found a towel and wrapped it around herself before leaving the bathroom. She didn't glance at the mirror, not wanting to see herself, she walked into the lonely bedroom and pulled on her robe from earlier, not wanting to be alone for even long enough to put on any real clothes.

When she walked out of the bedroom she realized it wasn't for her benefit that Neville had left her alone. It was for his. He was leaning over the kitchen sink, his shoulders tight as he braced himself over the running water. She took a step back, thinking she should just go in the bedroom and wait a few moments, but Neville turned and saw her before she could leave.

She looked down and held the robe around her tighter.

"I'm sorry… I didn't realize. I just didn't want to be alone," she trailed off softly. "I didn't realize you did."

Neville nodded and silently picked up two goblets from the kitchen and set them on the coffee table before the couch. Graces hesitated in walking towards him. He wanted to be alone and she interrupted, she didn't feel like sitting on the couch with him was what he wanted, but he gestured for her to join so she did.

"I brought some wine from home," Neville smiled tightly. "I thought it would be nice for me to surprise you and later for us to open some wine by the fire and just talk."

"Sorry," Graces replied smally, knowing none of this was what Neville expected.

"Don't be. I'm not."

A pregnant silence engulfed them. Neville stayed a good distance from her on the couch and in the awkwardness Graces reached for her goblet of wine.

It was too tart. The flavor didn't sing with notes of raspberries, it shouted. Far too overpowering, too real. Part of wine was the illusion, the hints. There was bold, but this wasn't bold. It was a smack.

"Do you like it?" Neville asked, taking a small sip himself.

Graces nodded, making sure not to let her mouth pucker from the distaste that assaulted her mouth. She made a note to bring some real wine one night, to show Neville what wine should taste like.

"Our neighbor makes it." Neville smiled shyly. "It's sort of a hobby of his. He started making wine 20 years ago. I thought you would enjoy this one. I'm told it goes well with chocolate."

Graces offered Neville a small smile and forced herself to take another sip before setting the goblet down.

"Why did you want to be alone?" she asked boldly.

Neville's face paled slightly and he looked away as he gathered his Gryffindor courage.

"Because… because I was scared about what I would do if I stayed," he revealed slowly.

Graces frowned at Neville's statement, before asking if he wanted to hurt her.

Neville choked on the wine he was drinking and set down the goblet as he laughed.

"No," he snorted. "The opposite. I was very near to hoisting you out of that tub and well… you can guess what I wanted to do from there."

"But… but you looked upset when I walked out."

"I was upset," Neville nodded. "I felt bad for even thinking about that with you so upset. With everything that has happened today… I felt bad that my thoughts went there."

"So, you left to cool down?" Graces summarized, a little surprised.

"Well, I couldn't very well take a cold shower with you in there, now could I?" Neville smirked, taking another sip to hide how red his cheeks had become.

Graces smiled, her first real smile of the evening. It was so… normal. A true teenager thing.

"If you would have continued kissing me I may have wanted you to," she said slyly, taking her own sip of wine to hide her cheeks.

Neville looked up at her with a small smile and then looked back down into his glass. He moved closer to her after that, and though they said no words to one another she felt they spoke volumes. She laid against his chest, his left arm draped around her and they sipped the awful wine until there was none left. They just sat. Graces didn't think of anything and it seemed Neville wasn't thinking of anything either. She fell asleep eventually and woke to Neville tucking her into bed.

"Are you not tired?" she mumbled, sinking down more into the sheets as sleep tried to pull her back in.

"Exhausted," Neville chuckled.

"Then why are you not getting in bed?"

Neville stilled and looked at the other pillow next to her.

"I—" Neville cleared his throat awkwardly, before standing taller. "This is your room," he began. "I didn't give you this place so we could be together. I gave it to you, so you could sleep and… I wasn't going to intrude. I know you don't like us sleeping together. Well, sleep sleeping. I believe you said it was—"

"That was before," Graces interrupted, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I want you here. I want this to be our place. Come to bed."

Neville still didn't move, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and chewed his lip.

"I—do you feel like-like if that was the case, if it was our place and not just yours, that it's a bit fast?"

"Fast?"

Neville shrugged and mumbled out a series of words that were all so jumbled Graces had a hard time seeing his point until, he blushed even redder and tried to explain again. She could barely hear him, but she did catch two words he stuttered in the mess of words. Living together.

She hadn't really thought of it like that. She supposed she could see how he would see it that way though. Maybe it was that way.

"If that makes you uncomfortable I understand," she said evenly. "But I don't mind at all. I suppose I don't think of it that way. I just see it as us spending time together. We won't have that during the day. All we will have is the night come school and I don't want to be alone. Are you uncomfortable?"

"Yes," Neville admitted. "But not because I don't want to. I just… I think I would get on your nerves if I was here. Well, not here, but if I, you know, had this place as mine as well, if it became our place."

"You won't get on my nerves."

"You alphabetized those books I gave you," Neville pointed out. "You lay your Herbology supplies out perfectly. You hang up your clothes nicely."

"Longbottom, shut up and come to bed," Graces scoffed, laying back down and closing her eyes. Neville seemed unsure, but after a moment he took off his trousers and shirt. He left for a brief moment and returned with two glasses of water which he placed on both nightstands. Graces thanked him and smiled into her pillow as she thought about Neville's nighttime habits. A glass of water by the bed… it was so silly, but it intrigued her. She wondered what else she would learn about him. She already learned he snored from their first night together.

He turned off the lights and nuzzled close to her. She could feel his bare chest pressed against her back and sat up again to remove her robe. She was about to retrieve one of her night gowns, but Neville pulled her into him before she could leave the bed. Apparently happy to have her skin against his.

"Graces?"

Graces hummed a reply into the darkness and waited.

"I'm here. For anything you need, I'm here."

"I know," Graces whispered, putting her hand on the arm he had wrapped around her scared stomach. She felt Neville kiss the back of her neck, the warmth of his body pressed against her and closed her eyes and allowed sleep to claim her.

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