Insert usual disclaimer here :P

Author's note: A special thanks to my best friend Aleah for reading this over and my wonderful betas Denari and Mdman1 for all the editing!

Special thanks to anand891996, superscarface83, Lil Miss Sunshine14, Amandalucia, guest, guest, guest, naruhina1519, SoapOpera, guest, Malfoy Mouth James-MMJ, lilnudger82, barby03, guest, trispectrum, Blue Luver5000 and guest.

Chapter 82

There once was a time when the sea roared and the dragons flew freely. A time when sirens ruled the waters of the earth. Their song freely dancing on the breeze, enticing men who dared to travel the open sea over to meet their deadly ends. Dragons were never found to be slayed and land was left unclaimed.

These sorceresses of the heart, goddesses of the sea, basked in their world, in the sun's rays on their blood-soaked thrones of stone. They were so beautiful, so enticing in their songs that men did not notice the ruby color of the stones they sailed to. They were too transfixed with the oceanic eyes; the wild, tangled hair; the darkened, sun-kissed skin and sinful naked bodies to realize they were sailing to their deaths. All who came near died with a smile on their lips as they sunk to their watery graves to feed whatever creatures lurked on the bottom of the ocean floor.

There was no contrition, no empathy for the poor souls that met their ends, just a sense of duty. A belief that by killing man there would be preservation. Man was cruel. Quick to strike. Impulsive to take—whether it be land, treasures and even living beings—and too stubborn to adapt. It was believed necessary to kill them if they wandered out onto the sea. But necessity soon was not the only reason for killing. It became sport. And when it became fun the sirens turned careless as well as cruel.

They no longer were the guardians the gods demanded they be, they were just frivolous killers. And so the sirens fell. They fell to man, united by a common enemy. Wizards had joined in man's plight, wanting to explore the world themselves and tired of the shackles sirens placed on them.

The Veela were the only ones to take pity on their kind, offering their lands and families to their cousins of the sea, and so the sirens of the world adapted. They hid with their cousins, taking on their ways and losing themselves, the sea and their ways for their sins against humanity. Generations of marriages found them hidden in Veela, their eyes the only telltale trait in human form. They were becoming rarer and rarer with each generation. It wasn't often the gift was passed down.

Wamil thought of these tales as she slowly flexed her hand, allowing her other form to take over the one arm, hidden by her robes that billowed out around her fingers. She could kill with this arm, easily. Her talons could rip through flesh and bone with hardly an effort on her part. It was a sobering moment the first time she had transformed. The first time she saw for herself how inhuman she truly was; how dangerous she could be. She never saw the danger in the ability to draw in men's hearts, but she saw the danger in this form. She was deadly in this form.

She had restrained herself last night when Graham attacked her, too scared to bring her claws for fear of killing him. She had no experience with this form. Her father had made it clear that she should never take it. Taking it endangered them all, it revealed the secret that they still existed. Apparently that secret wasn't so secret though.

It wasn't true. You're not one. His words echoed in her ear all through the night. Someone told him what she was and that meant people knew. And if people knew…

The darkest of times were coming. She could feel it. She could see it in Graham's eyes, in the mark that stained his skin. And there would be no hiding from the storm that was brewing. And she didn't have interest in hiding anyways.

She saw him long before he saw her, but she didn't allow his feigned disinterest to throw her off. She stormed forward and before he, or the Malfoy twins, could even appreciate what was happening she slashed him across the face with her talons. There was a deafening silence that followed. Both twins stood frozen, staring at her hand still raised and exposed, and Graham met her eyes with a fear that did not come from self-preservation as he took in her arm and her eyes that Professor Flitwick had restored earlier this morning.

Draco regained his composure first, moving for his wand, but Graces held to his arm, silently ordering him to stand down.

"I would listen to your sister," Wamil warned quietly, her eyes not moving from Grahams'. "No one is in danger now. But if you raise your wand I will be forced to attack."

"You've already attacked," Draco pointed out, his hand still on the hilt of his wand.

"That wasn't an attack," Wamil said, looking over at the other boy and allowing her face to take a far more sinister shape before restoring it and turning her attention back to Graham. "That was a warning."

"A warning?" Graces breathed.

"A warning," Wamil assured, moving closer to Graham and allowing her grayed hand to rest on his chest as she slowly picked off the buttons of his shirt with her talon. Draco pushed Graces aside and moved forward, but Graham motioned for him to stop. He was so calm under her hand, even when she had his chest exposed to her talons brushing against the skin over his heart.

"I am a descendant of one of the oldest creatures to roam this world," she said lowly. "The blood that runs through my veins is shared with generations who have survived worse threats than that of a boy who attacks in the middle of the night. I am siren, I am veela." she looked up at met his eyes. "I am witch."

"And I will not be afraid," she growled, her teeth pointing slightly. "This is my home. I will not leave and I will not hide. I will meet what threatens me and anyone like me head on. I will fight and die besides those who are persecuted for nothing more than their blood."

"I don't believe in self preservation, Graham. It's not in my nature." She could feel his fear climbing in him though his face remained void. "Have you ever seen a honey badger fight? There's no fear, no conservation and no retreat. Death is chosen over life. They attack mercilessly once something has caught their eye, or once threatened."

"I am a badger, I was not sorted into my house because I wasn't smart enough for Ravenclaw, or brave enough for Gryffindor… or ambitious enough for Slytherin. I was sorted into my house because I have the heart of a badger. I am unafraid of toil and I will not run in fear when there's injustice in this world. I would rather die with my friends."

"You remember that the next time you choose to attack me," she warned, removing her hand and stepping away. "This is your one warning, Graham Montague. Next time I will fight back." She turned to the twins. "That goes for you two as well."

She turned to leave, her hand restoring itself to its normal look. She turned into the next hall shaking like a leaf, unable to believe what she had just done.

"Sunder! Sunder!"

Graham was running after her, his wounds still open and dripping blood onto the stones. She frowned and walked faster, scared that he would make her act on her promise, but he persisted and she turned around talons back out and ready. He stopped a few feet before her, his eyes glancing at her hands before returning to her face.

"You said you understood," he began, shaking from what looked to be rage. "You said you—"

"Yes, and I do. I understand," she emphasized. "But I will not leave."

"Then you will die," Graham warned, moving forward not fearful of what she could do to him. "You will be slaughtered, with no hesitation. Is that what you want? To die?"

"Would it make you a better man?"

Graham looked as though he had been struck. "What?"

"Would my death make you a better man? Would it break you? Make you hate yourself for giving in and making the easy choice?" There was no understanding in his eyes. "When I die, Graham. When people who bear the same mark as you hunt me down and slaughter me in the streets will it open your eyes to what you and others of weak will have allowed?"

"You want to die as a martyr?" Graham asked distastefully. "That is your choice?"

"Why should I live when so many others die?" Wamil challenged. "Why do I deserve such a mercy?"

"Because I am giving it to you!" Graham yelled.

"I don't want it," Wamil said, holding her head high.

Graham turned away, his hand gripping the hair on top of his head in frustration.

"You're better than this," she whispered tearfully. He turned at her words. "You don't have to be this, Graham. It's not too late. It's never too late to do the right thing. I know this is not who you are."

"You've never even had a decent conversation with me," Graham pointed out, his voice crueler than his eyes. "You have no idea who I am."

"I know you changed my eyes and tried to scare me yesterday to save me," she said softly, retracting her talons and moving closer to him. "I know you love me."

"I never—never—said that. I—"

"You love me," Wamil interrupted. "And I love you."

He didn't know. The shock in his eyes told her everything. He thought, believed, it was one sided.

"You're talking nonsense," he maintained, shaking his head and trying to rid himself of the truth.

"You know I'm not."

He glared down at her as she stood only a few inches from him. "You know who I love?" he asked angrily, his nose almost up against her's. "I love my mother. My father. My sisters and their children. I love—"

She didn't allow him to finish, she seized his lips with hers. He jumped back, pushing her away and almost stumbling to the floor. She watched as the calm, collected boy visibly trembled. He nervously touched his lips and looked around for any onlookers, though he knew the hall to be abandoned.

When he turned back to her he kept his distance.

"I am marrying Graces Malfoy," he revealed, still shaken. "She's appropriate for me to marry and-and I love her."

"You know that is a lie."

"Believe what you will, it changes nothing. I-I'm marrying Graces. I've given her and her brother my word. I—"

"Liar! Hermione Granger told me the other day that it wasn't true!"

"I don't know why Hermione Granger seems to think she knows anything about Graces' and my personal relationship, but she is wrong," he said the words with such conviction she was close to believing them. "I have asked Graces to marry me."

"That's not true."

"It most certainly is," he swore, taking a step forward. "I can swear that on my sisters' lives. I have asked her to marry me."

"How could you marry her when you love me?"

"I don't—"

"You can't lie to me!"

"I am marrying Graces, Wamil. Can you feel that? It is the truth. Please leave. What I feel for you I am burying, and I am going to nourish the small amount of affection I feel for Graces so it blooms into something whole, and that is my choice. My decision." he emphasized banging his hand on his chest. "Just as taking the Mark was my decision."

"You can turn back, Graham. You can—"

He walked away before she could say anything more, abandoning her with such deep disappointment she could hardly breathe as her heart broke in her chest.

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

He was running. He knew he was in retreat, but he needed the distance. Each step took him farther and gave him another ounce of relief. He needed a world between her and him. That kiss. That moment. He had never been so close to doing something so stupid. He turned the next corner and tried to bury the hatred for himself that was threatening to eat him alive.

"You attacked her?" Graces hissed, coming from nowhere and walking alongside him despite his silence telling her to leave. "Graham, what is the matter with you!"

"Nothing." He tried to get away, but Graces was relentless.

"Nothing," she repeated. "You honestly think nothing's the matter with you."

"Graces, you need to get away from me."

"Why? Are you going to attack me as well?" She scoffed. "I'd like to see you try."

He walked faster and growled for her to leave, knowing she wouldn't. They were alone outside when he turned and pulled her into him, heatedly meeting her lips, determined to feel something stronger or just as enjoyable as what he had experienced with Wamil. But the girl in his arms would have none of his attempts. Graces pushed him away and smacked him hard against the scratches he had already obtained, so hard they stung as though his skin had been retorn.

"I need you to kiss me back."

"What you need is your head examined! Do that again and I will have Draco examine it for you! You arse!"

Graham moved to kiss her again, but Graces pushed him away with such force that he fell back. She opened her mouth to no doubt continue with her scolding as she loomed over him, but stopped. He watched as her face drained of color. When he turned he saw Neville Longbottom watching the scene before entering the greenhouse, sending Graces a wary look before shutting the greenhouse door.

"I thought that was over," Graham said, gaining Graces' attention back and standing to his feet.

"It is."

"Doesn't look like it is."

"Well, it is," Graces said tightly.

"Then kiss me."

Graces shook her head and fought back her tears.

"If it's over then move on. Kiss me."

"No." Her voice was stronger than he thought it would be. "It doesn't feel right," she whispered. "And I will not be your conquest to force yourself to move on and I hate that you're asking me to be. I've never felt so cheap." She wiped away a tear and looked at the Greenhouse. "I was his everything and I'm what you settle for to try and forget. We may very well be together for the rest of our lives, Graham, but I refuse to force ourselves into this earlier than we need to."

Graham knew she was right and looked down ashamed, before apologizing profusely. Graces nodded, but he could tell she was worlds away.

"We could be happy, Graces," he said softly. "We really could. We could use each other now to distract ourselves, but eventually we would love each other and be happy." He could see it in her eyes she knew what he was saying to be true. "I asked you out in October because I realized that. We both are appropriate for one another in more ways than status. There is no denying that."

"There's not," Graces conceded, still refusing to allow her eyes to meet his.

"Then why not? Why not just let go and force ourselves to move on? We both are in the same situation. Who would be better?"

"Let's just try, Graces," he murmured, taking her hand and gently pulling her close. "I want to try."

She bit her lip, but didn't pull away like before. He tried to seem inviting, even offering her a small smile, but she saw through it. Saw his own resignation as he was seeing hers. It wasn't what they wanted.

"We just need time," he reminded. "This is going to be easy. We're saving one another in a way."

"Are we?"

"It would never work for me and Wamil and it would never work for you and Longbottom."

"If Neville—"

"He won't though, Graces. He made his choice. You're going to get yourself killed and break your brother's heart. Is that what you want?"

"No."

"Then let me kiss you. Let's move on. Together."

She bit her lip in thought and looked back at the greenhouse. Neville was nowhere to be seen and Graham thanked the gods for that mercy, because when she turned to stare back at him she gave the smallest of nods. He leaned in slowly, fighting his own urge to stop. This was right. This was the best thing for both of them, for their families and even in a way for Wamil and Neville.

"I can't." He opened his eyes and to see Graces turned away. "I just can't."

"Graces."

"No. I just can't, Graham. It feels too wrong. I know what life awaits me," she revealed looking up at him. "But I'm not ready to succumb to it now. Let me mourn for my loss. Let my heart be broken for a while before asking me to move on."

She loved him, she loved him and she didn't even realize it. He felt a whole new pity for the girl in front of him, part of him wanted to point it out and another part of him didn't want her to realize, lest she do something foolish.

"How far did you and Longbottom go?" Graham inquired slowly.

"Why does it matter?" Graces sighed, staring up at the sky and trying to dry her eyes.

"I-I just want to know."

"Far."

"How far?"

"I don't know," Graces shrugged, now crying freely. "Farther than I should have let it go."

"Did you kiss?" A nod. "Touch?" Another nod. Graham stared at the girl in front of him before asking if she slept with him.

She bit her lip and choked a bit on her own emotions before nodding again.

He was a bit shocked at that. He imagined kissing, heavy petting, but not that. "Just once?"

Graces moaned and turned away to hide her embarrassment.

"More than once," Graham breathed frowning at the thought. "Graces, how many times?"

"I don't know!" Graces screamed. "A lot! Too many to count!"

Graham let out a breath and turned away as he ran his hands through his hair. He knew Graces never allowed Nott to go far, that she used her brother as a shield from such intimacies, and he considered what it meant to her to let someone go that far.

"I just don't get it," he breathed. "Longbottom. Neville Longbottom. Out of all the guys in the school you—"

"Oh you should talk!" Graces lashed out defensively. "At least Neville is human! AND pure! He's pure! Sunder isn't any of those things! Merlin! Did you see those talons!"

Graces had the sense to stop speaking, and they stood waiting for the other to say more.

"Do you even believe that shit anymore?" Graham asked after awhile.

"What?"

"Blood status," he clarified.

"Do you?"

He looked at her for a moment and shrugged.

"I don't know either," Graces admitted. "Not that it matters. We don't have many choices anymore, not even the choice of what to believe."

Graham nodded in agreement.

"If we marry that won't change," she murmured more to herself than him. "We will continue with the life our parents expected of us. We would fall into everything we should do, believe everything we should believe because it's easier, and we would teach our children only what we knew. Because it's easier."

"And safer," Graham added wearily. "It's safer."

Graces swallowed some emotion before nodding her head in agreement. Was this it? Was this his future wife in front of him? Everything pointed to it.

"Wamil kissed me," he confessed quietly.

"How did it feel?"

Life changing. "Pleasant."

"Pleasant?" Graces asked, a knowing look in her eye.

Graham shrugged. "A bit more than pleasant."

"How did it feel kissing me?"

"You didn't let me kiss you," Graham pointed out, a bit irritated. "I wanted to see how it would feel."

"You kissed me before," Graces stated, rolling her eyes. "On the Quidditch pitch."

"I know… just wanted to see if I would still enjoy it."

Graces raised her brows in surprise. "You think she has ruined all women for you with one kiss?" Graham flushed and refused to answer. "Sounds far more than pleasant."

"I just want to see," Graham begged. "It's one measly kiss."

"Then kiss someone else, you should have no problems finding another girl to test the spell you're under."

"If Draco found out I kissed another girl I would be a dead man."

"I can't kiss you, Graham. It feels wrong just to consider it."

She had shut down. She held her arms about her and looked over somewhere in the distance and he knew that this discussion was over.

"Is Wamil in danger?" Graces looked up from her thoughts. "Will Draco—"

"Sunder needs to go into hiding when school finishes," Graces said slowly, reading his mind. "Her life depends on it. But I don't think Draco will be the one to bring attention to her."

"Can you make sure of that?"

He knew he was asking a lot. That he was dragging Graces into an awful situation, but he was relieved all the same when the blonde agreed. Saying she would insist they keep away and quiet about the siren at least until the summer when the Dark Lord's army was stronger. "Draco will agree," she continued. "Sirens are dangerous beings. He won't want to anger one. He's pretty ticked with you for being foolish enough to try to hurt one. He said you're lucky that Sunder is a Hufflepuff and didn't have the nerve to finish you before. It was kindness he thinks that allowed you a mere warning."

Graham nodded and felt a sense of great relief before the guilt of his actions sunk in. All of that and his plan didn't work. She was going to stay. He hadn't saved her.

"You could try talking to her," Graces suggested, reading his mind.

"I think talking to her would be dangerous for both of us."

"And here I thought you were nothing but self control and practicality."

He sent Graces a withering glare, but she brushed it off easily.

"I can't believe you hurt her."

"Really? Have you already forgotten what I am? What I have done?"

"No. I have not… but you claim to love her."

Graham made a noncommittal noise and once again wished Graces would leave. "Do you still believe you don't love Longbottom?"

"I know I don't. If I did I would choose him. Just like if he loved me he would choose me," she added disheartened, holding herself tighter as though she thought she may break. "I really thought he would choose me."

"You thought he loved you?"

"I wanted to believe he did."

He turned her chin towards him, allowing her to keep her distance but cupping her face in his palms to ensure her unyielding attention. "Let it be done, Graces. This is better."

Ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

This was better. This is better. It didn't matter how many times she told herself that truth, she couldn't stop herself from walking to the Greenhouse as soon as Graham left her. She searched her mind for some rational reason for her actions and came up with none. She felt guilty, like she needed Neville to know she hadn't been unfaithful. Which was stupid, considering they were no longer together and she was free to do as she chose.

For some reason that thought cut her deeper than Wamil's talons cut Graham. She still hoped, no prayed, that Neville would change his mind. That he would take the Mark. If he hurt anywhere near to how she hurt she didn't understand how he could not.

She entered the greenhouse and immediately turned her head every which way. She didn't see him though. She moved through the shrubbery, her eyes looking in every nook and corner until she found him trimming a plant that very clearly did not want to be trimmed. His eyes settled on her for a mere second before their attention went back to the plant.

"Probably best if you wait over there," he instructed, his chin pointing to the work desk he wanted her to go stand by. "I'll be over in a minute. Or two," he corrected when the plant spat some sort of sap at him.

Frazzled, she nodded and went to the desk. Again she asked herself what she was doing. Why she was doing this. Why? Graham was right. She should give up on Neville and move on with him. She closed her eyes and imagined how happy it would make Draco. He loved Graham and she would make him his brother, when Draco fulfilled his task he would still be happy about a union between her and Graham. They would all eventually be happy.

Graham complemented her. Complemented her life as it was. It wouldn't be perfect, he was quick to get angry and yell and she was quick to spit back her own venom, but what couple didn't fight? Most of the time they would probably just ignore the things that pestered them about one another. And her and Neville fought. And though she never expected Graham to open up completely with her, she knew he opened up as much as he could. He could be distant sometimes, but that was his nature. She could accept that.

They would play their roles well. Her the dutiful wife, him the protective husband and together they would be a perfect pure family. And eventually those roles wouldn't feel so much like roles. It would be real and have real love.

But it wouldn't be the love or life I would have with Neville, she thought sadly.

With Neville it would be so different. His life would revolve around her and she could see her life revolving around him. There wouldn't be any expectations of her, he would just want her to be happy, he would want to make her happy. She could see him coming home excited to just be near her. They would be playful and involved. There would be very little separation of their lives and he would tell her everything and she would be able to tell him everything.

And when children eventually did come he would be amazing. And she would love him more. Love him for being the kind of father who was playful and gave affection like the gods gave rain in Scotland. She and her children wouldn't have that with Graham. They would know of his love, he would give it in his own way. Prideful smiles, the hand that gripped his son's shoulder after a good Quidditch game. Graham didn't like casual, careless contact. There was nothing wrong with it. People showed love in different ways, but she wanted for her children, for herself, what Neville would bring.

She jumped up when he appeared before her. Hair disheveled, sleeves rolled up and dirt caking his clothes and palms. His face yielded nothing. She looked down, ashamed for a moment, before looking back up.

"Nothing is going on between me and Graham," she blurted out, unable to take the silence surrounding them.

"I didn't think there was," Neville shrugged casually. "You pushed him away quick enough, it was obvious he caught you off guard. Though I still would very much enjoy decking him."

"You have no right to deck him. We're broken up."

"Is that why you came running to tell me nothing was happening the first chance you got?" The silence that met him was answer enough. "Thought so." She hated how smug he was, like he knew exactly what was happening. "Bout a week, as always, so I take it now you are ready to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," she stated firmly.

Neville scoffed at her words and went to a nearby sink to wash off the dirt on his hands. "You know I won't wait around forever, Graces. At some point I will be done."

"Be done," Graces shrugged, turning her heel on him and heading towards the door. He didn't let her leave though, he yanked her back to him. His arm encircled her waist and pulled her body into his, while his hand teased the sensitive area on the back of her neck. She stood there breathless and close to trembling.

"Tell me to be done again and I will," he dared, his lips so close to hers she could breathe in the minty taste of the toothpaste he used regularly. "I'll be done with you, Graces. I will give up on this idea of you and me together. I won't look your way or try to gain your affections any longer. If you can't take me as I am right now in this moment, we can't be together and I will have no choice but to honor your wishes. So tell me, what do you want?" She held her breath as his eyes dipped low to her lips before bringing them back up to meet hers.

Her head was swimming and though words were on the tip of her tongue nothing came. Neville ever so slightly came forward, his lips lightly on hers. She knew she should push him away, that allowing this went against everything she had said, but she couldn't. His lips on hers, the way he was kissing her was the only thing that had taken the pain she had felt since the other night away.

He pressed her against a nearby work table, his passion taking over and feeding the fire that was ignited under her skin. She muttered a few feeble protests, but didn't push him away. Her heart pounded against her chest and though she knew she should tell him to stop she prayed he wouldn't.

"Why do you do this?" he demanded, his hands gripping her closer while his lips pressed harder on hers. "I'm yours and you're mine. We could never be apart. Can't you feel that? Isn't your skin crawling and teeth on edge when you try to be? I feel like I'm about to be ripped apart from deep within my chest when we're apart. I go mad. Like I'm locked in a room and clawing at the walls."

Her breath caught as his lips moved to her neck. "Neville, I—"

"Stop punishing me. I love you. I love you with every fiber of my being, Graces. I love you and somewhere you know that. And instead of talking to me, sitting down and discussing our future you're choosing to manipulate me. Withdrawing your affections because you know nothing could hurt me more." Graces withdrew at Neville's words, but Neville held her firmly preventing her escape. "You know how long I've wanted this. Affection, warmth… You opened my eyes to things I never knew I wanted. Things I never dreamed of hoping for."

"And then you ripped it away," Neville finished bitterly. "I'm right where you want me, Miss Malfoy. Broken, pained, watching you from afar and feeling as though my world has been cast down into shadows. But you know that, don't you? You know I hurt, that you had become the center of my happiness. What kills me is that you want it to hurt."

"Neville, I—"

"I know who you are, Graces," Neville interrupted, his face hardening. "I'm not surprised by your actions. This is all you know. You've watched your whole life as your father manipulated people by any means possible."

"Don't you dare speak a word about my father," Graces spat. "My father is a great man!"

"I'm speaking the truth and you know it," Neville hissed. "The thing is, Graces, it won't work. I will never be what you have asked." She felt her heart fall and glared at him hatefully for paining her so. For treating her as though she were a spoiled girl playing a game with his life. "I thought about it," Neville breathed, something in his eyes dying with the confession. "Godric forgive me, I thought about it." Neville finally released her and moved away. "How could I not when you painted such a beautiful picture."

"You and me married, happy, and you round with my child. Happy to be giving me a family. I don't even think I want children, but I can't stop imagining how happy I would be if I had a little girl that looked just like you or a boy with my last name and your eyes. I can't stop thinking about all of that," he murmured quietly.

Graces wiped away a tear that spilled from her eye.

"You could have that. You—"

"No. I've made my choice, Graces," Neville looked up from his fantasies and stared at her face. "Now it's time for you to make yours. Tell me to be done and I will be."

Graces knew what answer she should give. Graham's voice echoed in her head to let this be done, but she couldn't. She looked up at Neville and knew he meant this. If she said for him to leave her be he would and she would lose him.

"I don't want you to be," she whispered meekly.

"Then come home," he pleaded, moving close and taking her hand. "Come home and talk to me."

"Why? There's no future in us anyways," she said petulantly, turning and looking away.

Neville was silent for a few moments. "I'm not ready to be a husband, Graces," he began hesitantly. "I'm sixteen and know nothing of how to cherish a woman properly. I have no doubt that in the future you would be a wonderful wife and I would be a happy man and that in a few years I could be ready to undertake such a responsibility as joining my life with someone… But I'm not ready now and, frankly, Graces, neither are you. You're spoiled, selfish, impulsive—"

"I think you've made your point," Graces cut off bitterly, moving to leave rather than stand there being insulted.

"I don't fault you for it, Graces," Neville said, grabbing her arm and preventing her from leaving. "You're sixteen, you're not supposed to be mature, but that's my point. We're not ready for all those things. Come talk to me tonight. I love you and I want to make you happy and if that's all you want I will figure something out. It just won't happen now."

"Oh and what is it you think you will figure out?" Graces cried.

"I don't know!" Neville exclaimed. "But that's the whole point of us talking, isn't it? So we can figure it out together."

There was a long pregnant silence.

"I don't think I can," Graces hiccuped, sitting down on a bag of soil and weeping. "I don't understand you. All you do is proclaim your love for me and then when I ask for a way for us to be together you say no. I don't understand, Neville. Graham has done it for those he loves. Do you think he wanted to bow down to the person who organized the murder of his sister and nephews? He didn't. He struggles everyday. I watch him just as Draco does, but he did it for love. Why can't you do this for me? If what you're saying is true why don't you take the Mark? I am taking the Mark for Thomas and Octavian, why will you not make this sacrifice for me?"

"There has to be another way."

"There isn't. Trust me, there isn't. There are things about my situation that you do not know."

"Like what?"

Graces turned away, but Neville was insistent, even demanding to know.

"Like that I tried to go to the safe house," Graces snapped. "I tried. It was the perfect opportunity for us all to go, my mother was even there, and Draco refused. He wouldn't go, Neville. My mother and I were begging him to come with us and he refused. He refused until it was too late and we no longer had the option."

Neville stood there dumbfounded.

"When did this happen?"

She took a deep breath. "Over the holiday."

"Over the holiday," Neville echoed hollowly. "I- I don't understand. Why didn't you go? Why did Draco refuse? How was your mother here?"

"None of that matters," Graces said sadly. "The point is I am trapped. There is no safe haven for me, Longbottom."

"That's not true, that's—"

"It is true. Draco is a Death Eater and soon I shall be as well. This is my world, Neville. My situation will not change. If you want to be with me you are the one that has to change. I'm sorry, but that is the only way. You can wish things to be different all you want but nothing will change it."

"I can't be a Death Eater."

"If you detest them so much why are you standing before me? I am going to be one. I've already promised. Or is it forgivable for me because I did so out of love? Is it forgivable for Draco because he is doing so out of love? If you truly believe that then why can't you forgive yourself and do so for me out of love? Or is it really that I am correct in my belief that you don't love me."

Neville seemed to be reflecting on her words. Every moment or two he would look at her sadly before looking back at his shoes in thought. It seemed to be done and she expected him to walk out and leave, for this to end, but he didn't. He came forward to where she sat and knelt in front of her taking her hands.

"I do love you, Graces. And I do not fault you, Draco or Graham for your choices. It's an impossible choice. But I won't make the same one. This is how he manipulates people. He uses something sacred and wonderful like love and twists it against them. I won't let him do that to me. I know my grandmother and my uncle's lives are at risk with my decision to support Harry in this war, but people need to start taking a stand."

"I don't understand you," Graces shook, yanking her hands away. "My gods can you imagine if I had made the choice you are making now? Thomas and Octavian would both be dead." She stood to leave and Neville followed her insisting she wait.

"Graces, there are other ways."

"Maybe there are, but those ways are complicated and full of risk. What I am asking of you now is not."

Neville furrowed his brow and stared down at her for a long while before narrowing his eyes and releasing her arm.

"Not complicated," Neville repeated bitterly. "Not full of risks." Neville took a step back and Graces could tell he was biting the inside of his cheek to the point where there must have been blood. "Merlin, what was I thinking. Meeting and trying to talk. Like you could ever sit down and be reasonable."

She could feel the rage boiling up in her at his words.

"Just leave," Neville demanded. "You gave me my options and I've made my choice."

"What?" she breathed, the anger depleting and her stomach turning. Neville didn't repeat himself, he just crossed his arms and nodded towards the door. "So that's it?" she asked, hurt despite herself.

"Isn't it?"

Graces gritted her teeth so her lip wouldn't tremble before turning to leave. She wanted him to stop her, she already missed his arms around her and the gentle words he whispered in her ear every night.

It's not real though. Not if he can choose to give you up.

She turned around despite herself and found Neville turned away. Her heart raced and she took a step away from the door towards him. "Tonight." He turned towards her. "We can talk," she clarified, her voice carrying a plea she didn't mean for it to.

Neville's eyes dipped down in thought, but he eventually agreed. "Tonight it is then."

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