Special thanks to Denarii for editing this for me!

Also much love to everyone still reading. I know I have been so horrible at updating this past year! I seriously can't thank you enough if you're still reading.

Chapter 94

Graham shook as he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. He could feel Wamil watching his every move and he was nervous to even take a breath. What he did, what they had done last night it was a mistake. And the weight of it was bearing down on him with the morning light.

"Graham?"

Graham closed his eyes at the uneasiness in Wamil's voice. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell her what he was thinking: that this was all a mistake, a moment of weakness on his part. No, that would be cruel and the last thing he wanted was to be cruel to her.

"Graham," Wamil repeated, coming over to him and placing a concerned hand on his shoulder.

"I have to go," he said solemnly, unable to bring himself to look at her.

There was a long silence. "That's it?" Wamil asked tearfully.

Graham swallowed and forced himself to look at her. "I can't stay here any longer. I fear I've stayed too long as it is." She didn't understand, or maybe she did understand. It was hard to know what the girl in front of him was thinking.

"You don't have to go."

There it was. He knew this was coming, what he didn't know was how he would feel when it came. He was going to be sick. Panic was now flooding through him. What he had done had opened a door, a door he thought had closed the night he took the Mark. In this moment right now he could choose a different path, he could choose Wamil.

"I do," he whispered.

"No," Wamil pleaded, shaking her head and moving so he had to look at her. "You do not. You could stay here with me and we could talk to someone and fix this. You do not have to let that Mark define you. We could—"

"Please don't make this harder," Graham begged, the cracks in his foundation already splitting further.

"Why not?" Wamil challenged defiantly. "Maybe it should be harder for you. Doing what's right isn't easy, it's hard. It's a hard choice each moment of every day. Do you think I'm not scared? I'm not stupid and naïve enough to not be frightened of what is coming. You offered me a way out, a chance to be safe. Do you know why I burned those damn papers? It wasn't just because of you, it was because some part of me wanted them."

Graham took a step back as she cornered him. "I am choosing what is right, and I know it's scary, but I will be here. We can go down this road together and, if it ends quickly, it ends, but at least we were down the road we wanted to be on."

Graham looked down at their hands intertwined. She was holding onto him so tight he was starting to not be able to feel the tips of his fingers.

"Being with you feels right," he murmured quietly. "Loving you feels right." Wamil nodded. "But choosing you, choosing… everything else—" he settled on "—doesn't feel right." Wamil's hand dropped away from his. "I gave Draco and Graces my word. I promised her that I would marry her. I—"

"You don't love her!" Wamil scowled. "I doubt she wants to marry someone who is in love with someone else. I—"

"She doesn't love me and she's in love with someone else," Graham said patiently. "We are not discussing marriage because we want to be married." Graham swallowed. "We are discussing marriage because a time is coming when her last name will be her death sentence. And I have offered her my last name as salvation."

Wamil fell silent at his words and stared at him waiting for more.

"I offered it, they didn't ask, I offered."

"Why?"

Graham tried to remember his reasoning, it seemed like years ago not months. "I told Draco it was for my family's standing. Her dowry, her last name associated with mine, but it was more than that. I had been around her for years and never given her a second thought. She was just there: a part of my house, a part of my team, someone that I wouldn't call a friend, but I didn't dislike. Then she was… she was more."

"You liked her?"

"A little, but no that wasn't the reason. At least not all of it." Graham fell silent for a moment and debated whether he should continue. "Graces almost died in October. She-she did something stupid… and very brave. Something recklessly brave," he whispered, his throat growing tight as he remembered. "Do you remember when the Higgs were killed?"

Wamil nodded her face showing her confusion.

"Thomas and that baby were not going to be spared. It was never in the Dark Lord's plans to let them live. Thomas was called before him, to declare allegiance, but he knew that Thomas wouldn't mean it. How could he have? His family had been murdered at the Dark Lord's order. I overheard my uncle's private conversation regarding it and I told Graces, I warned her what was going to happen."

"I shouldn't have told her," Graham admitted aloud, the disgust he had with himself evident. "I never should have told her. I didn't know her," Graham explained, as if Wamil would understand any of this. "I knew she wouldn't let Thomas and that child be killed, but I thought she would use her money or name to save them. I always thought of her and Draco as spoiled brats. I didn't know them," he repeated quietly.

"I didn't know she would go to the Dark Lord herself. I never thought that Graces Malfoy would stand in front of a monster like him and without a second thought put her life in jeopardy for someone that could never benefit her. They tortured her, beat her and then left her on the brink of death for days." Graham was silent for a few moments, remembering how Graces had come back to Hogwarts and the days that followed. "I did that."

"No," Wamil whispered, coming close to him. "No you didn't, you—"

"No, I did," Graham maintained, shrugging her away. "I could have told someone else, or I could have stood up for Thomas myself. I don't know why it never occured to me, self-preservation maybe."

"So you offered to marry her out of guilt?" Wamil asked unsurely.

Graham shook his head. "No, I asked her because it felt right." He looked up at met Wamil's eyes. "It felt right to help her, to try and keep her safe after what she had done." Graham rubbed his eyes. "So my question is this, what's right? Letting Graces Malfoy die? After all that she had done, should I go back on my word? And what do I say to Draco? My best friend. Sorry mate, I know I swore I would keep her safe, but I've changed my mind?"

Wamil didn't seem to have an answer, but Graham could see her searching for one.

"I've chosen what I can live with, Wamil. I can't live with my sisters dying, or my nieces and nephews. And I can't live with Graces Malfoy dying when I have the power to help her." He moved towards the door, reaffirmed in his choice being what was right. It hurt just as bad as he imagined it would and it almost shattered him completely when he heard Wamil's soft voice say after him.

"You can live without me."

He stood outside the door after he left the room, staring at the wood and realizing he had just closed the door on probably the best thing that life had to offer him. He had given her up as she begged for him not to. It was a horrible feeling standing on the outside of a life that could have been, knowing that if he just reopened that door he may be able to salvage his own happiness. He backed away from the door purposely, giving it a final look before turning around and abandoning that road completely.

He felt numb walking through the silent halls of the castle. He never could have deserved Wamil anyways, not after all that he had done. His thoughts kept lapsing back to the night they had spent together and all they had talked about. Well, all Wamil had talked about. He couldn't bring himself to disclose much, his end of the conversation was more silent. Talking about his father was too painful, considering his father didn't even acknowledge him as his son anymore. He spoke a bit about his sisters, but couldn't continue feeling guilty for risking their life. And Arella and his nephews were still a topic he couldn't touch.

"Mr. Montague."

Graham jumped, torn abruptly from his thoughts and turned around to see McGonagall at the end of the hall, staring over at him. He stared back and something cold gripped his insides. She wasn't looking at him as a student that needed to be chastised. She was looking at him with quiet speculation. And he could tell, even from this distance, she was for the first time seeing him for what he may be.

He couldn't move and could barely breathe as she slowly walked closer, her hand at her side in a way that told him she was prepared for an attack. He forced himself to not instinctively do as she was and take a defensive stance.

"What are you doing out of bed?" the older woman asked, her steely gaze never flinching away from him as she stopped a few feet short, enough space to keep her distance in a physical altercation, but near enough she could best him in a magical.

"I just needed some air, Professor. It's been a difficult time," he rasped wearily, shocked at how his throat could dry up so quickly before this woman and be so steady in front of the Dark Lord.

McGonagall's lips tightened, but no softness came to her face. She knew. It was written all over her face. He wondered if the attack on Graces had been the final straw for her. Nott was in her classes, her pupil and he was a Death Eater. Right under her nose.

"Lift the left arm of your robe."

"Why?" Graham asked, he hoped he just sounded offended, but he had a feeling panic was mixed into his voice as well.

"You know why."

Graham swallowed. He knew his only option was to run, because it wasn't in him to fight her. For all that he was he could never bring himself to fight the woman in front of him. She was possibly the person he respected the most in this world. But he didn't run, for whatever reason his feet refused to move. Maybe because he knew that one could never outrun a lioness. So he reached for the black sleeve of his robes.

"Professor," Wamil's quiet voice intruded, making both Graham and McGonagall turn. "He was with me," Wamil murmured, her cheeks turning scarlet as she pushed her robes closer around her.

The older woman's brows both lifted in surprise and she turned back to Graham with a look of shock and slow understanding. Graham opened his mouth to deny it and then shut it. She knew. Years ago he had walked into this woman's classroom and nervously asked what would happen if he was disowned from his family. What he could expect from the school, if he had nowhere to go. McGonagall had stared silently at him for a long time before asking why he was worried about such a thing.

He didn't tell her who he was wanting to ask to the ball, but he had explained his family would find his choice not only inappropriate, but unacceptable. And from there they had a long talk, not just about his personal beliefs and how they differ from his family, but if he really wanted to possibly live without his family, friends, and even be ostracized in his own house. In the end she had told him that whatever he needed she would ensure he had, but nothing had ever come of it. When she saw him at the ball alone he had barely looked her in the eye.

She had approached him a few days later and quietly said it was okay. That she understood why he had decided not to. She had thought he chickened out. 'She already had a date,' Graham had mumbled, not willing to say more on the matter, just not wanting her to think him a coward.

The affection he harbored for this woman was still strong. He never would be able to look at her as just another Professor. He had a feeling she thought a lot of him as well. All of this was probably the main reason McGonagall wanted to help him get a job at the Ministry. She thought he would be a man to inspire change, someone that would fight against pureblood hatred at the ground level. He turned away, hating himself even more for betraying himself.

"I think the two of you need to follow me," McGonagall said, walking past Graham in the direction of her office.

"We weren't together. She's lying," Graham said abruptly.

"Why would she do that?" McGonagall asked patiently, clearly just wanting to see what Graham's answer would be.

Graham ground his teeth, but couldn't think of an answer. "We couldn't have been together," Graham whispered. "Because I'm a Montague, and Montagues don't sleep with anyone who isn't pure. I couldn't have been with her because being with her means that I don't have a family anymore. I never slept with her because I am engaged to Graces Malfoy, and the gods know that she couldn't suffer such a betrayal."

He walked away, ignoring McGonagall's calls to him. He heard her coming behind him and walked quickly to the Slytherin common room. He didn't know what he was doing, why he thought he could run from this, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He was panicking like a child. As though going to his room and sullenly refusing to talk would do anything. He darted to the door of the common room and almost laughed hysterically at the sight of Graces looking as though she herself was just about to enter.

"Graham?" she whispered, her eyes furrowed. He must have looked as panicked as he felt, because she hurried forward and took his hand in hers. "Graham, are you okay? What's wrong?"

When McGonagall caught up she stopped short at the sight of them. Graces hands clutching his as her worried expression turned to the other woman then back to him.

"What's going on?" she asked unsurely, looking between them. It was perfect, in the saddest of ways. It was perfect that Graces was there. Her frail body and sunken eyes looking at both of them so unsurely. McGonagall would never say a word now. She would be too frightened of what Graces would do. Unstable. Unstable was the word thrown around that hospital wing all through the days after Graces attack and McGonagall herself had worried about how much she could take. He had heard her yelling at Snape outside the hospital wing, McGonagall knew something was wrong.

Graham looked at McGonagall. It was her move. The older woman glared at him for a moment before walking up to Graces. "I caught Mr. Montague out in the halls past curfew—" She hesitated for a brief moment before continuing, "—with Miss Sunder."

Graces face took on this distant look as she stared up at the professor. There was no mistaking what the older woman was alluding to and Graces was never one to feign stupidity. She turned to him next, her face still unreadable.

"To end things?" she asked, her voice clipped and calm.

Graham must have made some sound of confirmation, he wasn't sure because his heart was pounding so fast he could hear the blood rushing to his ears.

Graces swallowed hard. "So long as I hear no more of it." She took her hands from him and nodded to the professor and moved to leave.

"Miss Malfoy," McGonagall said quietly.

"I do not wish to talk or hear about this any further," Graces proclaimed, her body shaking as she kept her back to the both of them. "As far as I am concerned none of this happened and I am counting on discretion on both your parts to ensure I will not need to hear about it again." She turned and Graham wondered at how much Graces was acting and how much truth was there. "Graham and I are convenient. We are not meant to be, but supposed to be. I will not fault him. What's done is done and now we will move on."

Graces motioned for Graham to come to her. She took his arm and looked up at him, her eyes more understanding than he was with himself. The professor didn't say another word as they entered the quiet of their common room. Graces continued to look at him long after the doors shut and suddenly Graham realized she was out late as well.

"Longbottom?" Graces bit her lower lip and looked away. "I thought that was over."

"As did I."

"It needs to be over, Graces."

"You don't exactly have the higher ground here, Montague," Graces pointed out, her gray eyes looking as hard as iron.

"How do you think this is all going to end?" Graham asked, at a loss to comprehend why Graces with everything that had happened would take such a risk.

"How do you think it will all end?" Graces asked spitefully.

"It already has," Graham proclaimed, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. Graces frowned and he cleared his throat. "It's over."

Graces looked like she wanted to ask more, but before she could Draco came into the room. Graham and her both jumped back from one another as Draco paused looking at them and finished clipping his watch to his wrist for the day.

"Are you both just getting in?" he asked a little too casually, adjusting his robes.

Graces and Graham both stood silent; waiting for the other to answer. Draco raised an eyebrow. "No." "Yes." They both declared in unison, both gaping at the other for saying the wrong answer.

"Okay," Draco mouthed, deciding that they could have their secrets and moving past them to go to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Draco," Graham began following him.

"I don't need the details," Draco muttered waving his hand dismissively. Graham looked like he would continue to protest, but Graces nudged his arm and shook her head. Draco left and it was the two of them again.

"This may be best," Graces said. "If he thinks that we're—"

"Best for whom?" Graham asked accusedly. "I don't particularly want to lie to Draco. I don't want him to think we are together when we most certainly are not."

Graces took a deep breath. "So you want him to know about you and Sunder?" Graham glared hatefully at her. "I thought so. Why don't we make a deal, Graham? I don't say anything about you and Sunder and you grant me and Neville the same courtesy."

"I meant what I said Graces, if you two are found out—"

"Yeah, I know," Graces cut him off. "Should I do the same for you?"

Graham closed his eyes and hated himself for making the same mistakes as the girl in front of him.

"How long is this going to go on, Graces? How long do you think it can? Merlin's wand, why not at least tell Draco?"

"You and I both know it is better that Draco not know," she reminded, crossing her arms in front of her.

"What I know is that you cannot continue to do this. Sometimes we have to make hard decisions, Graces. And you never do. It's like you think you are the exception to every rule. You never want to sacrifice anything, you want everything. This won't be like that," Graham warned. "You are going to have to make a choice and pay for the choice you make."

"I know a choice needs to be made," Graces said slowly, her eyes holding his.

Graham frowned for a moment. "Draco needs to be your choice, Graces. You know that right? That Draco is your choice and that to choose anyone over your brother, even someone that is right, would be a wrong choice. You know that right?"

People began to trickle out into the common room before Graces could answer him. She walked away to go up to her dorm room and Graham stood there with a worse feeling in his gut than when he had been caught.