Author's notes: Thank you again to my bestie Aleah and my wonderful betas Denarii and Mdman1.

Special thanks to , Sakura19Haruno95, anand891996, infinateconstellations, Yasmin, Lil Miss Sunshine14, guest, ImsebastianstanButter, Naruhina1519, guest, gr8rockstarrox, MREZ, Phoenix, trispectrum, and Malfoy Mouth James- MMJ for the reviews!

Chapter 87

He felt cold, like frost running through his veins that shot to his heart. He trembled from it, his body violently resisting what his mind had already decided to do. He took another deep breath and checked the map. Still no sign of Nott, but he knew the boy would appear soon.

He wished things were different, that his life was different. He wished he could have told Harry why he needed the map and cloak. Maybe if he had told him, maybe he wouldn't have to do this. Neville pushed away such an easy fantasy. He couldn't have told Harry the truth without revealing Graces and Draco.

And in the end that was more important, keeping Graces safe. So he had lied and told Harry he would tell him everything in the morning. Harry had hesitated, but given him both items. Neville knew it was a gesture of good faith and trust, and hated that he was betraying that.

He fingered the dagger he had taken from Graces' drawer, a precaution, in case things didn't go as planned. It wasn't the same one she had used on him all those months ago, this one was more elaborate. The blade shined like starlight, the hilt was golden and the design was so intricate it seemed more to be a work of art than a tool. Neville snorted at the fact that Graces had it tossed in her drawer like it was nothing. Maybe in her world it was.

He checked the map again. It didn't show a great deal of the forbidden forest, but he would be able to catch Nott before he got onto the grounds. It would be simple, quick and - though the other boy didn't deserve it - painless. Neville didn't plan on enjoying the action of taking another person's life, but it needed to be done. He would stay under the cloak and then when Nott was in view take it off and quickly cast the killing curse. Nott would hopefully not even be able to process what was happening to him.

It was the aftermath that he was more concerned about. He knew that he would need to come forth as Nott's murderer, not just because he didn't think he could live with the secret, but also so that no one could accuse Graces or Draco. There had to be someone to take that fall, and he would not place it on someone innocent of the crime. He tried not to think about his Gran and Uncle Algie. About the devastation this would bring to them.

Before his mind could truly begin to wander off into those thoughts, he saw Nott appear on the map and moved quickly so as to still catch him in the forest. Luckily, Neville wasn't too far away from him. He had been careful to choose a location that was near to the greenhouse, where he had once seen Nott coming from the woods. It seemed the boy didn't deviate much from his routines.

Neville waited patiently, knowing he was too loud to actually go any further and not be noticed, so he stood waiting for Nott to pass him before he attacked. Each step felt like an eternity, as Nott moved forward and Neville did his best to still his heart. He could feel the spell on his tongue and mouthed the words again and again. Finally Nott passed him.

Neville's cast off Harry's cloak and with perfect enunciation—though his hand trembled—bellowed "Avada Kedavra."

Nothing came forth from his wand. Not a wisp of green or a puff of light. Nothing at all happened. The spell that he had so relied on to ensure that this would be quick and over, didn't work for him. He meant it, though. He meant it. Neville stared at his wand in horror, as though it were somehow its fault and not his own will that had caused such a thing.

Neville's mind put away his thoughts regarding the spell, and he held very still as Nott turned, slower, than he should have for a man that had just survived an assassination attempt and stared at him. Neville couldn't move, could barely breathe as the Nott continued to look at him. The tension between them was so tangible, that Neville felt as though he were choking on it.

"Expelliarmus," Nott cast, barely flicking his wand and sending Neville's soaring overhead.

Neville watched it land, aware of the amount of trouble he was in.

"Longbottom," Nott grinned, casually stepping forward as Neville took a step back. "What a pleasant surprise."

His heartbeat was so loud it was now in his ear.

"What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" Nott tutted. "Naughty, naughty. If you're caught you're sure to lose your house some valuable points."

Neville knew he was gloating, teasing, that he was now a feast for a lion. He kept backing away, even as Nott danced around him, delighting in his panic.

"You feeling okay, Longbottom? You look a bit… peaky."

He couldn't go for the dagger now, not with Nott being so careful to maintain a distance. Not with his eyes so carefully watching him. If he took out the dagger now he would lose it, just as he had lost his wand.

"Cat got your tongue?"

Neville's eyes snapped back to Nott's. And he did his best not to show the fear that was raging through him.

"You're no good at this, Longbottom, playing the strong, defiant, silent type. It doesn't suit you. So, tell me, why are you here? Why have you tried and failed miserably at offing me?"

"You know why," Neville whispered, his rage coating each word carefully. At least he didn't sound terrified.

Nott raised an eyebrow. "You have got to be kidding me," he laughed, looking up briefly at the forest's canopy. "You still fawning over her?"

"Merlin, Longbottom, you are pathetic."

"Not so pathetic that I have to force myself on a woman."

"Is that what she told you happened?"

"Showed. Well, she showed me how you tried." Neville corrected, he saw the faint hint of red come upon Nott's cheeks. "Oh don't worry Theodore. She's a beautiful girl, I'm sure lots of men would become… intimidated. Not me, I've never had that little problem, but some."

Nott made some sound that closely resembled a roar and a snarl and Neville fell back from whatever blow had struck him. He rubbed his chest, unsure of what had hit him, but positive it had not merely been a fist.

"Shut up," Nott hissed, looming over him with his wand out.

Neville tried to force a laugh, but it came out more so as a cough. It was a tricky game, but he needed Nott closer. Closer and not paying attention as he should be. If he could get him to lose himself, to become sloppy, to dare to be in reaching distance, then Neville would have a chance. One good shot with the dagger, at this point that was all he could pray for.

"A shame really," Neville continued, ignoring the wand between his eyes. "She's wonderful. Everything you imagine and more. And she tastes," he made some noise of approval. "She tastes like heaven on earth."

"You're lying."

"Cause I'm totally the type to lie about my conquests," Neville grinned. "She makes the most glorious noises too, small gasps with each movement as though she's surprised each time at how good it feels. It drives you wild. Half the time I have to block it out just so I can keep going."

Nott's face drained and he stood there staring at him.

"For all that you tried, you never will have had her the way I have. Freely. She would never want you the way she wanted me."

"You think she wanted you?" Nott laughed. "Let me tell you something about Graces, Longbottom. The only people she cares about are the ones that share her blood. That's it. You're on a fool's errand to win her heart, because all her love and affection goes to Draco. She never wanted you. She wanted something from you."

"I don't know what game she's been playing with you, but mark my words you played straight into it. She lead you on, Longbottom? Make you think she had feelings for you? Then come to you crying about how scared she was of me? Never saying what she wanted, but letting you read between the lines?"

"She did no such thing," Neville seethed.

"Right," Nott nodded, a cruel smile on his lips. "See, she wouldn't dare tell Draco. She loves Draco. Can't risk his life in her revenge plots. And gods above and below know the little princess won't get her own hands dirty. Better to let others do the dirty work."

Neville glared.

"She told you for a reason, Longbottom. You're expendable."

He pointed his wand and Neville already knew what curse was on his lips, he tried to think, tried to remember something he could use. He felt death looming near and was at least thankful he didn't feel any desperation to beg. But Nott stopped, turning around at the sound of Graces' voice echoing throughout the woods, Graces' voice screaming Neville's name again and again. Neville didn't wait. He yanked the dagger he had placed in his belt out and jumped forward, driving it straight into Nott's stomach while at the same time yanking Nott's wand out of his hand.

And he didn't know why it crushed something in him, why Nott's blood spilling out onto his hand killed some piece of him, but it did. Despite what this boy had done. The danger he was. Something in Neville broke as he plunged that dagger into his belly and watched those cold eyes widen with realization.

Nott stumbled back against a tree and Neville moved to stand- ignoring the way his stomach turned and his knees felt weak. Graces ran into the clearing a moment later, her hair wild and cheeks flushed. She looked at him for a moment and then at Nott before she ran to the boy beside the tree, her hands pressing his away from his gut.

"Leave it!" she snapped, stopping Nott from taking the dagger out of his torso. "You'll bleed out faster."

Nott didn't seem to care or even realize that the blonde bending over him was the only one around that was going to help him. He pushed her away, whispering an endless amount of threats. Graces ignored him and moved to take her wand out, to heal him, but Neville ripped her away. He placed his body protectively between her and Nott bleeding out on the forest floor.

She stared up at him, her bloody hands braced on his arms. He had never seen her gray eyes so wide, her lips so devoid of color.

"Neville," she whispered. "It's not too late. Please."

"You're so fucking dead, Malfoy!" Nott grunted, his nostrils flaring with rage. "You, Draco, Thomas, even Octavian. You're all dead."

"You still don't get it do you?" Neville asked hollowly. "You're not walking away from this, Nott."

"Neville, please."

"You're not going to harm her, her brother, or anyone for that matter ever again, because you will not live through this."

Graces made a little hiccup of a cry and Neville turned to her. She was covering her mouth and looking between the two of them, her eyes glistening tears.

"Please, Neville. Please don't do this."

"It's done," Neville swallowed.

"No it's not!" Graces wailed, her hand pulling at the hair on her head as though she could rip an idea out of it. "It can't be," she whispered.

Neville didn't say a word as Graces gnawed on her lower lip, her eyes searching for an answer he knew not to be there. It was done.

"We could bind him," she said desperately. "We could bind his magic. There are spells for that. Or-or make him swear an unbreakable vow o—-"

"No."

She stood there in the icy wind staring at him the tears brimming over her eyes. "He will die, Neville. He will die and-and you would have killed him."

"I believe that's the point."

"No!" She shook her head. "This isn't you. You're not a killer you're—"

"I'm sorry weren't you just a few days ago trying to convince me to be a Death Eater?"

"And I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong. Because if you would have done it, if you would have made that choice all that you are would have changed. Everything about you would be gone. You are not this person. You're not and I should have never even thought to ask. I want you. I need you and if you do this you will never be you again. You will forever be altered. Please, Neville, please come back to me. We can make this right. You and me," she whispered, her forehead ice cold against his. "Come back to me."

"You won't be safe, Graces, you—"

"I don't need your protection, Neville." Graces made some strangled sound from her throat. "I need you."

Neville looked away.

"You once joked that I would be the death of you. If you do this, Neville, I really will be. I can't live with that. I can't. I can't go on knowing that I wrecked this beautiful soul. That I took away something good and pure in the world."

"Graces—"

"Let me fix this. For me. For you. For us. Let there be an us."

"We were on borrowed time anyways."

"Neville."

Neville broke at the plea, at her tears and turned away sobbing into his hand. He wanted her, he was always going to want her. She was the center of his world, of his sanity. He had this choice of protecting her or being with her. He had made the choice, protecting her was better than just feeling her skin. Ensuring her life was more important than ensuring his own. And he had made that choice knowing that if her life was taken he would rather die than go on without her.

Azkaban was better than living free and watching the shell of the woman he loved go on. It was better to be imprisoned than see Graces become his mother. Or see her dead. He had come out here holding tight to the image of her safe and warm in a bed of their making. That was supposed to be his last memory of her. Not this.

"This wasn't how I wanted you to see me last. This wasn't supposed to be your last memory of me. This wasn't supposed to be my last memory of you," he choked, despising himself for not being able to hold onto his emotions.

"Neville."

He shrugged off her touch. "It's done, Graces. Done. Leave."

"No, it—"

"Do I need to slice his throat in front of you?" Neville demanded angrily, whirling around and causing Graces to take two steps back. "Will that be enough to show you that this is over? Do you need to see a corpse?"

He took a step towards Nott, but Graces grabbed his arm and shook her head. Her lips tightly pursed to keep in her own sobs.

"Then leave," Neville demanded, turning his back on her. Unwilling to see how she looked at him now.

He could hear her footsteps retreating and then turned as he heard Nott cry out. Graces was still bent over him, whispering something savage in his ear as she held the dagger firmly in her hands. For one terrifying moment he thought she was going to finish the job.

"The dagger is mine. If he had been found with it in his gut suspicions would have turned to me."

"I didn't think of that," Neville realized.

She nodded, as though it were obvious he wouldn't think of such things. "Don't you dare get caught with this body, Neville Longbottom. Do you hear me? Don't be here when it's found and don't say a damn word either. Not one damn fucking word. Understood?"

He looked in those gray eyes and wondered what she could be hoping for.

"You can't save me from this."

Neville made an undignified noise as she ran forward and pulled him down to her, kissing him hard on the mouth. It would have been a perfect kiss, like in films, if he couldn't smell and taste Nott's blood on her lips. "Not one damn word, Neville. Promise me. If it be the last thing you ever do for me promise me that you will not get caught with the body and you will not say a word."

He brushed the hair from her face and stared at those eyes he had come to love so much. And suddenly he was overwhelmed with the realization that he would never see her again. That the moment she went past those trees, he would never see her. Never hold her. Never kiss her. This was to be his last moments with her. His last moments with her was this. And that was somehow worse than not seeing her at all.

"I promise. Now go."

Her mouth twisted, but thankfully, for once in her life, she obeyed. Every step she took away from him felt like physical pain. It was the worst sort of agony and all he wanted was an escape from it.

"Graces," Neville called out as she just passed a stretch of trees, just before she would be too far gone that he would not see the details of her face. "Do you believe me now?"

She stood there in the night air for a long while and Neville had no doubt she knew what he was asking. "Not one damn word Neville Longbottom."

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Tonks ran her hand absently over her protruding belly as her thoughts went again to last night. She should have told someone. Her training said that she was to tell someone. Ignoring that, ignoring the rules like this was foolish. It was wrong. If she had told someone they would have sent an Auror better equipped at helping Graces here. An Auror that would know the things to say, and how to lead an investigation like this. She had failed.

She wondered if she had allowed Graces to push her away because of her last name. She wondered if it was more the threats she had delivered, than the healer's poisoned logic that had made her back off. Malfoy was still a name that spoke of command. She had seen many high officials bend at the command of that name. Had she bent because of the name as well? Had Graces' status played into this?

It may have. It may have played into it more than Tonks had realized. It sure made her take the threat seriously. And she would be lying if she hadn't also thought of what the blonde could do to her career. Tonks closed her eyes and once again thought about what she wanted to do. She couldn't ignore this. She just couldn't. She had to report it. And if that meant she had to face the consequences of reporting it late, so be it. She couldn't allow this to happen under everyone's nose. She refused to be that Auror.

"It was Theodore Nott."

Tonks whirled around at Graces' voice. Graces stood there in her oddly formal winter cloak and Quidditch boots. She was leaning with her back against a tree and her face was splotched from shed tears and dirt. Not just dirt, Tonks realized, her eyes focusing beyond the shadows. Blood.

"He attacked me," she choked out, her eyes closing in the anguish from the admission. "He tore my clothes off and forced me down. He tortured me. He-he touched me."

She could only imagine what saying all of this was like for a girl like Graces Malfoy. A proud and entitled girl. What admitting such a defeat was to her. She moved closer to try and give her comfort that had to be impossible to obtain and stopped as she saw the blood dripping down into a pool on the forest floor. Graces met her eyes and slowly moved her coat revealing a dagger plunged in her right side. The thin fabric of her nightgown clinging to; her coated down with rich red blood.

She ran towards her, yanking out her wand already muttering the spells she had learned in training. Easing the girl down so that she could work. Apply pressure, send for help—

"Only the righteous want justice. The damned seek revenge."

"Don't talk," Tonks ordered.

"I wanted revenge," Graces continued, barely a whisper. Tonks was unable to fully listen. There was so much blood. She knew better than to remove the dagger now. It had to stay. "I yearned for it more than I yearned for anything else. Nothing in this world mattered anymore. My every thought and breath turned to it. I wanted him to pay and pay dearly. I wanted him for the rest of his miserable life to feel as helpless and forlorn as I felt in that barn and I didn't care if I had to damn my soul for eternity to get it. It was to be mine."

She had to have hit an organ. There was no way she didn't hit an organ. Tonks tried to remember what organs would be in that area. What her odds are of survival could be. It was the right. What was on the right? What was on the right!?

"You're not listening to me," Graces hissed, her bloody hand snatching her face and turning it towards her eyes. Tonks could smell as well as taste the blood now on her face. She held still, praying if she heard her out that Graces would be still and let her help. "I brewed a potion. A justice potion using blood magic, I ensured that whatever pain and suffering I felt Nott would feel as well. For the rest of his life. A living breathing voodoo doll."

Tonk's eyes widened with realization. "You did this to yourself."

"I made a mistake," Graces whispered. "Please help me. I don't want to die."

"You're not going to die," Tonks swore, sending more sparks in the air to get other Aurors to come to her aid. Why had none arrived? What were they doing? "We're going to get you to the castle."

"Nott too. I-I left him in the woods."

"Where?"

"I'm not sure," Graces breathed, her lashes flickering from the effort to keep her eyes open.

"Stay with me, Graces," Tonks said, the edge of desperation playing in her voice. "Stay with me."

Graces eyes fluttered open for a moment, her gaze resting below Tonk's eyes. "We have the same mouth." Tonks couldn't even breathe as the girl in her arms traced her mouth with her blood soaked fingers.

"Graces, you need to stay awake." Even as she said it she could see the other girl slipping away. "Just a little longer," Tonks whispered desperately.

Graces nodded her eyes still fixated on her lips, before they rolled back and the girl became limp in her arms.

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

He wasn't dead. Neville felt Nott's pulse again, and as weak as it was, it was definitely still there. He wasn't sure what was happening to him though. His breathing had been labored since the stabbing and a few times he had tried, and failed, to convince Neville to get help or let him go. Then suddenly he had screamed, as though the pain had somehow intensified and he had shivered and damned Graces with every breath until he passed out.

Neville wondered if this could be a side effect of the killing curse. Maybe it had done something. Maybe it wasn't strong enough to do something then, but now, maybe it was doing something now. He looked again at Nott's wound. There was definitely more blood coming out now, than when he first stabbed him. Neville swallowed and took another step back. It was harder than he thought it would be to watch someone die like this.

It was even hard for him to listen to Nott beg. He knew he shouldn't care, not after what he saw in the pensieve. But he did. It was awful hearing someone beg for their life. He had no delight in it. Nott was a horrible person, and he deserved death, but when he cried for help Neville forgot those things. He had almost silenced him, but stopped himself. It would be cowardly to not hear a dying man's last words. Of all the things he was now, he was not a coward.

Neville's thoughts were interrupted by a loud calling in the distance. He strained his ears and his breath caught as he heard the unmistakable sound of Hagrid shouting Nott's name and the rustle of leaves and twigs being trampled on. Unsure of what to do, but remembering his promise to Graces he threw the invisibility cloak over himself and went between some trees. Fang burst into the clearing first, followed by Hagrid and an Auror.

Neville froze. They were gathering Nott together, whispering spells that Neville was sure was meant to save him and pouring a potion between his lips. They were saving him. Both men were working to save him.

No.

"Do you think it's too late?" Hagrid asked, lifting Nott so he was cradled in his arms.

"I don't know. We need to hurry."

"I can't believe she did this," Hagrid breathed. "I-is it tied to her?"

"What?"

"If he dies will she die?" Hagrid clarified.

The other man shook his head. "I don't know. I hope not."

They began moving towards the castle at a pace that Neville had a hard time maintaining without making any noise.

"She doesn't deserve to die," Hagrid hiccuped, sniffling loud enough that Neville was able to go faster. "She can't die. She-she—"

"Professor, please get a hold of yourself. This isn't helping her."

"I can't believe she did this," Hagrid sniffed. "I-I can't."

Neville didn't know what was happening, but he knew they were talking about Graces. Did they think she did this? Was she taking the blame for his actions? He was about to call out to them, tear off the cloak and tell them it was his when Hagrid continued.

"Do you think she wanted to die?" Hagrid asked, his voice breaking. "Did she stab herself because she wanted to die? Because she didn't think she could live after what he did?"

Neville froze.

The Auror made some noise in the back of his throat and without breaking his stride called back. "What matters is she doesn't want to die now. She wants to live now, so we better hurry in case her life is tied to his."

Neville wasn't sure what was happening as he followed the two men into the castle up to the hospital wing. But he didn't get the chance to follow them in.

"What is going on in your house, Severus?" McGonagall demanded, blocking the doors to the hospital wing, so Snape couldn't follow Hagrid and the Auror in.

"Don't. Don't you dare. Did you see her stomach? Did you see those scars? Someone has been hurting that girl, Severus. And someone has been hurting her for a long time by the looks of it. So you tell me. You tell me right now; what is going on?"

"Calm yourself, Minerva. I know as much as you."

Neville had never seen his Head of House so furious. She was shaking and looked as though she were about to explode at any moment.

"Graces Malfoy, a girl under your care, a girl in your house, your goddaughter is lying in that room with her torso opened up while two healers try to stop her from dying from a wound she inflicted on herself. She stabbed herself, Severus. Because she was scared, or she wanted revenge, or she wanted to die after an attack from a boy that is also under your care and in your house. And on top of all that, there is scarring on her abdomen that says that this isn't the first time she has been hurt. You knew who her healer was, you suggested we call her. How many times have you called her, Severus? How long have you kept that girl's harm a secret from us?"

"You're being hysterical. You—"

"No, I don't think I am," McGonagall interrupted, drawing herself up to her full height which was nowhere near Snape's, but somehow seemed to be just as intimidating. "There was another reason why Graces Malfoy must have stabbed herself. She must have thought no one else would help her. She must have felt so scared and so alone that she thought she had no choice other than to use a Haitian potion and hurt herself."

"Interesting that you're so quick to blame me, Minerva. Because based on what you just said she must have also felt she couldn't go to you or the Headmaster either." The silence that filled the hall was more powerful than any spell Neville had encountered.

"Clearly," Snape drawled, turning to walk away. "I'm not the only one in this school that failed Graces Malfoy."

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review! I love hearing how you all are enjoying the fic!