Special thanks to Denarii for editing for me! And to Krakengirl, kissonamountaintip,kankananime123, Bumblebee3230, The CamelliaSinensis, anand891996,

Omgitsfranklin, sam, Malfou Mouth James-MMJ, Naruhina1519, AnnyJackson19, John Solart, Purplestan, Amyb11, RIOSHO, lolamarriexoxo, TVDobsession106, runawaycherry93,Bharm, emilyamazing, infinateconstellations, rsiles90, simmens, M, redkitsune2016, undy, trispectrum, Guest, Lily Snapeee, American Boy, GRRRRRR and 69

Note to GRRRRR: You asked me for some fanfic recs with Neville and unfortunately I don't really have many. There isn't a lot of fics with him as a main character I've noticed. I really liked one on here, but the author deleted it. I try not to read a lot of fanfics with Neville because I don't want them to influence my story. Reddit has a great hpfanfiction subreddit though (r/hpfanfiction) you definitely could see what they recommend. I do like "More than a Herbology Teacher" by Danigirl84 ( I thought this was a really sweet one shot)

Chapter 97

Neville glanced across the room at the window. The sun was almost fully risen and morning dew was shimmering on the glass as it began to thaw. He hadn't realized how much had happened until Graces was speaking. It was hard to believe that all this had happened to them in less than a year. It was hard to believe that any of this had happened period. He'd remained silent for almost all of it. The only part that he had taken over, much to Graces' displeasure, was the discussion of Nott. Graces had decided to maintain the story that she had originally given in the hospital wing, but he couldn't allow that. No, he had stabbed Nott and Graces covered it up.

He just couldn't bear it. Hearing her lie again about what had occurred. That story she gave, though it did hold some truths, was not the full truth. And he didn't want her to carry the weight of that lie. Neville had a feeling that McGonagall wanted to talk to him about Nott. Maybe she thought that stabbing him was so far from his personality that he needed some help of his own, but Neville was quick to dismiss it, possibly even a bit harsh in his dismissal. She had asked how he felt about it. To which his answer was "The same way I felt last year when I stabbed someone in the eye."

After that he had let Graces take over and sat silently ignoring the older woman's glances. He didn't want to discuss it. He did what he had to do, both times. There was nothing to discuss. Besides, Graces had revealed far more disturbing things tonight. Neville had never pushed to know what task Draco had been given, and now he understood why Graces had been so adamant about him not knowing. He would have told. Even with his promise to never betray her, even with how much he loved her, he would have betrayed her for this. She had looked at him after she made the confession, not just the confession that her brother was tasked to kill Dumbledore, but that she was helping.

All her doubt in him was laid bare in that look, her doubt of his love, her doubt of his devotion. She had admitted to her part in the task and then turned to see his reaction before continuing on. He had no idea what she had seen on his face, if he had passed her little test or confirmed her fears, but he knew that she looked on purpose, not to seek comfort or to show any apology. She looked to him to see his reaction, to see how far his love extended. He couldn't explain how he knew that to be the reason, but he knew.

It was in the silence that had unfolded that his thoughts turned to this. Now that there was quiet to think his mind was running away from him. He looked over at his Professor and had a feeling her mind was doing the same, turning all Graces' words over, trying to inspect every look and movement she had made. Maybe even some of his own words and reactions.

McGonagall raised her glass to her lips as though to take a sip and then when she found the glass empty she looked at it with irrational disdain before setting it down next to the empty decanter and empty bottle.

"What happens now?" Graces whispered.

"What do you think should happen?" McGonagall asked, staring intently at her.

Graces shrugged. "I don't know," she rasped, biting her lip. "Azkaban? I assume people who plot to kill Albus Dumbledore—"

"You're not going to Azkaban," Neville swore gently, holding her closer to him.

"I'm going to agree with, Mr. Longbottom, there," McGonagall said, an amused smile playing on her lips.

"And Draco?" Graces asked.

The amused smile fell and McGonagall looked down for a moment. "I don't want you to worry about that."

"How could I not worry about that?"

"Because you've now told an adult," Professor McGonagall stated cooley. "And now an adult will take care of that. I don't want Draco going to Azkaban either. I would like him to come to me as you have."

Graces' looked down for a moment, some kind of emotion catching in her throat, before she asked her next question. "So-so you'll be talking to Draco? You're going to tell him. Tell him I told. Tell him about Neville. Or are you going to turn him in? Or—"

"I am not going to do anything."

Graces frowned. "I don't understand. Nothing is going to happen?"

McGonagall glanced over at him and then at Graces, her eyes worn and heavier with something more than sleep. "Nothing," she said gently.

Neville furrowed his brow in confusion and he looked down to see Graces had a similar reaction.

"I think this was enough for the time being," McGonagall further explained, sitting up and placing her empty glass next to the empty bottle of whiskey. "Not everything needs to change overnight."

"No?" Graces asked, her voice airy and broken all at once.

"No," the older woman said kindly, standing up and glancing at Neville before walking past them and to the doorway to her bedroom. "You are going to keep me informed of your brother's progress and I will speak to the headmaster, but I think I can safely assure you that nothing needs to happen immediately. Provided your brother isn't going to make a move soon and no one is in immediate danger," she stipulated.

"When will you tell Dumbledore," Graces asked, her voice trembling with fear.

McGonagall fell silent for a moment. "Soon. Graces, you need to believe that I am going to take care of you. You and Draco. I need you to trust me."

"What if Dumbledore—what if he retaliates? What if he—"

"Albus Dumbledore is not a great wizard because of his power. He is a great wizard because of his ability to see the good in others, and because of his humanity and sympathy, traits You-Know-Who scoffs at are what make him great. It is not fear but love that people are drawn to, Graces. And I trust that when I go to him he will feel nothing but compassion for you and Draco. I also trust that he will not want to break the confidence you have given to me and will allow me to keep this promise to you, that so long as Draco isn't near completion, we have time to allow you to adjust and decide how you want to go forward."

Graces sniffed tearfully in relief and Neville himself was surprised by how thankful he was for the lack of action. It was odd sitting there now. He had always wanted this. He never allowed himself to think about it, to give attention to the chance that maybe, just maybe, Graces would change sides. But now that it was here, he didn't feel so much relief at it. He felt more fearful. He didn't fully understand the consequences that would come from this and if he was being honest he was frightened of it. Time, no matter how little, to adjust was comforting.

"I am going to give you each a box a candy. Neville, I am sure you remember these," McGonagall murmured, handing Neville a familiar box. Neville laughed out loud as he saw the Weasley twin's invention: Puking Pastilles. The older woman smiled slightly before handing the other box to Graces. "The Weasley twins sent me this around Christmas. 'In case I needed a few extra days off,'" she quoted, her lips pursing in disapproval and mild affection.

"Anyways, I think they will come in handy for today. You both take one during your first class and when you're dismissed go to the hospital wing and sleep. I will inform Poppy that you two will be coming."

Neville watched as Graces nodded and seemed to be wrestling with what she wanted to say next. Both he and his head of house waited with bated breath. "Thank you," she finally said, her silver eyes more hopeful than Neville had seen in months.

"Graces," McGonagall began quietly, her voice more hesitant and unsure then Neville was used to hearing. "Does Snape know of any of this?"

Neville bit his tongue. He didn't know why Graces had not mentioned Snape, why she had woven the retelling of the past so that he was missing, but she had. He had wanted to say something, but loyalty to her prevented him from doing so.

"I don't think so," Graces answered, her tone and voice perfect. Neville wouldn't have known she were lying if he hadn't known the truth.

"Graces," McGonagall said patiently. "You said a muggle doctor helped you. Did this happen at Hogwarts?"

Graces said nothing. She didn't move her eyes away from the older woman's, but she didn't answer.

"Neville visited when you were hurt. You said he did. You said that—"

"I know what I said," Graces murmured, shifting uncomfortably.

"Neville did not leave Hogwarts. I know that. I remember seeing him, I remember him in classes. So I know you healed at Hogwarts if he visited you. So who brought you to Hogwarts? After. Who got you a doctor?"

"I don't know. I don't remember much regarding after."

McGonagall pursed her lips and let out a slow breath. "Graces, if Professor Snape knew any of this and allowed this to happen to you he should not be protected."

Graces stared down at her fingers and licked her lips. "He didn't know."

McGonagall didn't look like she believed that for a moment. She looked over to Neville, but his face was carefully cold. He hated Snape, he'd always feared the man, but since October, his fear had vanished and was replaced by a burning hate.

"Graces," Neville began quietly. "This is your life. Are you willing to wager your life?"

"Severus Snape didn't know," Graces repeated. "And I'm willing to wager my life that he would do whatever is in his power to keep me alive."

"I wouldn't," Neville said coldly.

"Then you and I are in disagreement," Graces said thickly, meeting his eyes. Neville leaned in to say something to her privately, but Graces gently pushed him away. "I will not discuss this."

"Here?" Neville asked, a bit of his temper seeping out. "Or are you barring any conversation of this?"

"Neville," Graces whispered, her eyes pleading.

"I want to have a discussion on this."

"I don't think a discussion is needed," the professor broke in, her eyes set with determination. "I believe I have my answer."

Graces' face fell at her words. "He he always helped," Graces whispered. "Always. He tried to stop me from going. He argued for Thomas and Octavian to be spared from the beginning, before anything happened. He's always tried to save lives where he could. Not just mine. Please. He saved me," Graces pleaded.

McGonagall sighed and tried to place her hands on Graces shoulders. Graces instantly jerked away from the touch.

"What will it look like if Snape is exposed? It will expose me and mine too. It—"

"Like I said," McGonagall whispered. "Nothing will be done now. But we have to talk to one another, Graces." Graces looked away. "I want you to start joining me here for dinner, every evening. We will do this under the ruse that you are being given an opportunity to retake your exams and practicals since your eye had prevented you from doing well earlier. I think you will have an easier time talking to me if you know me, perhaps. We will talk and when you are ready we will go forward. Neville may also join us for dinner and conversation." The older woman gave them both a pointed look. "That way you two will not need to be sneaking around so much."

Graces nodded through her tears.

"I know you're scared, Graces. There's nothing wrong with being frightened. If you weren't scared right now, I actually would think you mad." Graces nodded again, apparently to overwhelmed with emotion for words. McGonagall tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and gave her a sad, yet affectionate look. "Go to your first class, take the chocolate, and get some sleep. When you wake up we will talk more. In the meantime just rest."

When they left McGonagalls' chamber Neville was surprised by how still the castle was. The morning was there and in less than twenty minutes people would be leaving their dorms, it shouldn't have been so surprising that the castle was silent, but it was. In the chaos of his night the castle remained untouched. He walked silently along side with Graces thinking of this.

"Neville," Graces whispered, awakening him from his fog. He looked down at her and smiled slightly. Graces bit her lip. "I feel like something should be said, but I don't know what to say. I know you must have questions," she continued, her hand nervously playing with his mother's ring. "And you may want to have a few discussions." She nodded her mind deliberating even as she spoke. "And you're entitled to that. You are."

Neville nodded and let out a slow breath. His head didn't feel right, whether it be from lack of sleep, drinking, or all that had happened. It didn't matter. He felt clouded.

"I don't think anything else needs to be said right now," he stated quietly. "In fact I think it best we both just focus on staying upright for a few hours more."

"Okay," Graces agreed, her voice still heavy with wariness.

Neville gave her a sad smile. "Graces," he whispered drawing her attention back to him. "Everything is going to be okay. Not just because McGonagall knows and is going to help us, but because I won't let anything happen to you. I swear right now. If you want to leave, if you want to run away, we will go. I'll even go to the Slytherin dungeons myself right now and drag your brother and Thomas with us. I'll go get Octavian too. You give me the word and I will do it. I swear."

Graces let out a breathy laugh. "No. I meant what I said. I don't want to run."

"Okay then. The offer stands, should you change your mind."

Neville watched as Graces stalled for time. For some reason she seemed unwilling to part with him for a few hours until they went back to the infirmary. He wanted to bid her goodbye, especially because he was nervous people would be coming out shortly and see them, but he made himself wait.

"Snape made an unbreakable vow to my mother to finish the task should Draco be unable to. He swore to protect Draco." She licked her lips nervously. "And I honestly believe that Snape cares for us. I think—" she paused and searched for words. "I think his relationship with us is complicated. And I don't—he's a spy, as you've heard he was a spy in the first war for Dumbledore, and the Dark Lord thinks he's a spy for him, and it's so hard to know who he's loyal to. But I think it's to—"

"Graces," Neville interrupted tiredly. "Now is not the time for this discussion."

"I know, I just—"

"We can talk about Snape later," Neville stressed.

"I don't want us to have anymore secrets," she said back as a way of explanation.

"I appreciate that."

"And I won't bar any conversations between us. We can discuss anything, maybe not in front of others, but in private. No topic is off limits. Sometimes I will need reminding," Graces added quietly looking down.

Neville gently took her chin up so she was looking up at him. "That goes both ways." He gave her a soft smile. "I will see you in a few hours, okay?"

"Okay," Graces nodded.

Neville kissed the top of her head and began making his way to the Gryffindor tower. He was almost half way there when Graces came tearing up behind him too. His eyes widened at her calling out to him and they ducked into a dark corner, Neville frowning down at her.

"What are you going to tell them? They're all up by now and you're going to walk in and—"

"I won't have to tell them anything if someone sees us like this," Neville pointed out, his voice about three octaves too high. "Graces, this is not discreet."

"I'm sorry. My gods, I'm acting mad aren't I?" Graces asked, holding her temples and closing her eyes.

"A bit, yeah," Neville nodded, looking around to make sure no one was around still.

"But still, what are you going to say?"

"McGonagall summoned me. They saw she summoned me. I don't need to say anything."

"But they will ask why and—"

"And I'll say it's private," Neville finished. "I'm not exactly an open book with them."

"But what if—"

"Graces, what's going on?" Neville asked gently.

Neville watched as she trembled before him, her mind a storm of worries she couldn't seem to grasp onto. She shook her head, not to answer him so much but as to struggle through her own self.

"I don't think I can bear to see him," she whispered swallowing hard.

Draco. "Right," Neville whispered, only imagining how hard it would be for her to face him now. "You go to the infirmary now," Neville instructed. "McGonagall won't mind. Just go now. I'm going to be there soon."

"Did I make a mistake, Neville?"Graces asked, wiping her eyes.

"Oh, Graces," Neville breathed, looking around to make sure the world was still just waking up and not beginning to trickle into the halls. "Oh, Darling, now is not the time. Now is—"

Graces tried to stifle a sob, but it was a moot point. Breying sobs took over her despite her best efforts. Neville wanted to hold her, but he couldn't bring himself to. Not knowing what was at stake if they were caught. He wasn't willing to take such chances now.

"You're just tired," Neville whispered, hesitatingly putting a hand on her shoulder. "Things are going to look and feel better after some sleep. You've never done well with lack of sleep. You do crazy things like take me to bed," Neville joked, winning him a small laugh. "Hmmm maybe I should keep you tired. Perhaps if I keep you utterly exhausted for a decade I'll get you to marry me."

"Are proposing?" Graces frowned, her eyes still red and puffy.

"Gods no," Neville said quickly. "No," he repeated more firmly.

"You know we can think about that now," Graces pointed out awkwardly, obviously realizing this herself.

"I-I don't want to think of that now," Neville hurriedly spilled out.

Graces gave him a coy smile. "I meant a future. We can think of a future together."

"Oh," Neville smiled, a bit relieved. "I'm already thinking of futures, Miss Malfoy, you don't even know. I have plans."

"Do you?" Graces grinned. "Like what?"

"Traveling, moving in, getting a dog—"

"Or a cat," Graces suggested.

Neville wrinkled his nose. "I don't really like cats. Cats eat plants. Knock pots over, do their business in said pots-"

"I don't like dogs," Graces maintained, wrinkling her nose. "They give their love too freely and want approval too much."

"You don't like them because they're too loving?"

Graces smiled. "I thought we already established that I was always going to win."

"A cat it is."

"I love you," Graces declared hushly, looking up at him in a way that made his heart stop and beat quickly all at once. "I'll see you soon. If I'm asleep when you get there wake me."

Neville watched her go, before heading into the tower. He wanted to think of a future with Graces. He had this vision of her working long nights in the healer program and him throwing himself into his internship and coming home to one another in a tiny flat, maybe in Hogsmeade, close to the school. He smirked at the idea of Graces being willing to live in a small flat and adjusted his thought to one of the properties he already owned. He always imagined a little studio filled with so many plants that it was like living in a greenhouse, but he realized now that Graces would detest that. And apparently now there was to be a cat. He could only imagine what a cat of Graces' would be like. That would be the most spoiled kitten to ever walk this earth. He would probably have to allow it to come with them when traveling too. He was going to be dashing to catch trains with way too many suitcases of clothes and an unruly cat. Neville grinned, imagining a life where his and Graces greatest argument was her spoiled cat that was continuously wreaking havoc on his house plants.

The only thing was that he didn't see this future so happy without Draco. He and Graces had been living in a little bubble of their own for the past few months and now the bubble had popped. Realities were beginning to set in and one big reality was that Graces could never be truly happy if Draco wasn't in her life. Every monumental moment: their first apartment, graduation, their wedding, the births of their children would be marked by his absence.

He wondered if Graces had a plan to tell him? No. She couldn't even look at him. She was scared to face him. She clearly had no plans on how to tell him. Was anything really real until Draco knew? McGonagall knew. No, it wasn't the same. Draco had to know. Right now Graces had two lives, one with him and her real one with Draco, and they couldn't be joined unless Draco knew.

"Neville, where have you been? Is everything okay?"

Neville stared at Harry not really hearing his words. He knew. He stared at him for a bit too long to be polite, before Harry repeated the question.

"Oh, uh, yeah, sorry," Neville fumbled.

"You sure everything's alright?" Harry asked, searching his face. "Your Gran okay?"

"My gran?" Neville scowled.

"Yeah, we thought perhaps something happened to her," Ron said from the foot of his bed, almost fully dressed for the day. "I mean… McGonagall did send for you and then you didn't come back."

Neville looked around the room and saw that Dean and Seamus were also looking at him with the same concern that Harry and Ron shared.

"No," he said quietly. "Everything's fine. Truly."

"Then what was—"

"It's, uh, a bit private," Neville shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.

Dean looked as though he were going to ask another question, but Ron quickly intercepted. Saying they should hurry down for breakfast and give Neville a chance to get dressed. He glanced over at Neville for a moment before quickly looking away. Neville recognized the look, but couldn't quite place it until Ron patted his shoulder and left the room. It was the look he had when he saw his parents. Neville looked back at Harry who was trying to hide his own glances as he quickly tried to stuff his homework in his satchel. They thought it had something to do with his parents.

Neville tried to ignore his discomfort and slipped away to shower. He felt heavier than before, not quite like the world was weighing him down. He felt more real, more human. Skin and bone. Real and imperfect. He had needs, human needs. He needed to eat, breathe, bathe, drink and sleep, but he also needed other things too. Safety, acceptance… love. The last few hours seemed to highlight all this. It also highlighted how much he took for granted.

He scowled at his odd jumbled thoughts as the water ran down him, washing away the smell of stale sweat and whiskey. His thoughts continued to scatter regarding his humanity. Making it impossible for him to truly grasp his chain of thought. He didn't know why he was thinking of any of this, but he was. Maybe because his mortality felt more real. He felt as though Death were stalking Graces from the shadows, she had for months been aware of his dark presence, but Neville was now aware of what lurked in the shadows around them. And if Death was watching Graces, wasn't he watching him as well?

"Breathe," Neville whispered aloud, sealing his eyes from the water and other emotions. "Just breathe."

He tried to go back to thinking about the cat and the life he could have with Graces, but the pit in his stomach widened. Intrusive thoughts kept bombarding him. He thought about the ministry. What it had felt like in those moments of uncertainty. What it had felt like to look at the end of someone's wand and know he was only going to get fifteen years on this earth. It hadn't felt like this, he realized. He had too easily accepted such a short life, but now he couldn't accept it. He wanted a lifetime now. He wanted a lifetime with Graces; a few months was not enough. A few years wasn't enough. He wanted decades with her; he wanted a life with her. And they couldn't have a lifetime if one of them died. She needed to live, he needed to live, and death was a quiet companion walking along side of them. A silent threat that would forever loom if this war didn't turn out in their favor.

Neville for the first time in his life considered praying to the gods. Begging them to spare Graces and him, to let them have an opportunity to live past this war and build something wonderful together. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't bring himself to pray to deities that he didn't believe in or to pray to ones that were real and allowed such terrible things. He thought about all Graces had gone through this year. Then he thought of the Higgs. He remembered the list of murdered children in the Daily Prophet.

And that's the world, right? It didn't care that they were young, just like it wouldn't care that he and Graces were young and in love and on the cusp of a wonderful life. He turned off the shower and felt tiny pricks of heat spreading across his skin. The steam felt as though it were suffocating him. He shook his head and tried to regain his thoughts and not notice that his heart was pounding so violently in his chest despite the fact nothing was happening. He tore out of the shower, unable to stand the steam, the heat, being closed in a moment longer and tried to suck in a full breath of the cool air.

But the cooler air did nothing for him. His skin was on fire and he couldn't get one full gulp of air into his lungs.

"This can't be happening," he rasped, folding his arms tightly around him and going to his knees. "Please, please, please."

He bent over on himself, so his forehead was touching the tile and held himself more tightly as he sobbed into the floor. He felt weak, pathetic and broken when all he wanted was to be strong. When he needed to be strong. He needed to get it together, he needed to get up. But the more he reminded himself of what he needed to do and be the more he sank into the floor.

This was in his head, he knew this was in his head. He was fine. Physically he was completely fine, but he couldn't stop himself from shaking or from feeling that he was suffocating. He kept reminding himself that he wasn't suffocating, that though it felt like he was in a tight space he wasn't. It took too long for him to finally be able to stand up off the floor. And when he finally did he didn't feel at all better. Neville realized that he was still teetering on the edge of another break down.

"Just a few hours. You just have to hold it together for a few more hours," he reassured himself, closing his eyes tightly.

He walked out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his hip and was surprised to see that Harry had lingered behind the rest of the group.

Shit.

Neville took a bracing breath and began to sift through his trunk for some clean clothes. He knew Harry was watching him. Watching him and thumbing through his own thoughts of what to say.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked quietly.

Neville chewed the inside of his cheek. Not at all. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Harry waited for more, but Neville devoted all his attention to the buttons on his shirt.

"Neville, if you need to talk to someone—"

"I'm fine, Harry."

Harry shifted awkwardly. "I left one of my books and I, uh, heard you in the shower."

Neville could feel his cheeks burning. "You know me, doesn't take much to make me cry. I'm just tired."

Harry shifted his eyes and seemed to be trying to find words for what he wanted to say. "I don't think that."

Neville glanced up at him as he adjusted his tie and then looked back down at what he was doing. "Don't think what?"

"I don't think you cry for no reason," Harry mumbled. "So you must have a reason."

Neville tried to breath in a way that didn't show Harry how he was feeling, but each breath felt shaky and short. This couldn't happen again, not now with Harry watching.

"Nev, I wish you would tell me the reason. I want to be there for you."

"My reason," he began tightly. "Is I'm terrified that—" Neville paused and swallowed the emotion building in him "—that I'm killing the only real good thing I have in my life." He looked up and met Harry's emerald eyes. "I'm scared that my relationship with Graces will get her killed."

"Oh," Harry said lamely.

"And I'm trying to be strong. I'm trying to not let her see how scared I am," Neville sputtered, barely able to breathe let alone stop his tears from falling. "But I am scared. More scared then I was at the Ministry. But I can't leave her. She won't accept that," Neville laughed. "And to be honest when she didn't I was relieved," Neville whispered shamefully.

Harry furrowed slightly. "Neville, what happened last night?"

Neville just shook his head and sat down on the bed hanging his head low between his palms.

"Harry, you can't tell anyone," he sobbed. "You can't. Not a soul, no matter what. You have to p-p-promise me."

"I won't. I promise."

Neville nodded and continued to cry into his hands. They had missed breakfast, but he didn't care. He didn't feel much like eating anyways. He felt the spot next to him on the bed sink from Harry's weight.

"I'm assuming Graces told you that I know."

Neville laughed darkly. "What gave that away?"

"I think you have a healthy amount of fear of Graces to not be stupid enough to be so candid about your relationship without knowing that she has already told me."

It took Neville a few moments longer than he was proud of to understand what Harry meant by that. But when he did, he couldn't help but chuckle. And that feeling that had been building- diminished slightly.

"I think she loves you," Harry murmured. "She talked about… I don't know, things. It seemed like she loved you."

"Things?" Neville asked, looking up.

"Yeah," whispered Harry, seemingly haunted by the memory. "She said she wanted nothing but to give you a life, to build a life with you where you two can be happy and content."

"She said that?"

Harry nodded. "Yep. Those words."

"And you remember that word for word?" Neville scowled.

"Yeah I do. Because the next thing she asked was if your body would be another one I climbed over on my way to victory."

Neville closed his eyes. "She can be quite vicious at times."

"She wasn't being vicious. She was being protective," Harry corrected.

Neville scoffed. "She can be both at the same time." He looked over at the boy sitting next to him. "That's not true. You know that."

Harry didn't seem to have any words left. Neville wasn't sure if he believed him, but he had a feeling that the boy sitting next to him was more inclined to take what Graces said to heart then what he was saying now.

"When you all came with me last year, you knew it was dangerous, but you came. I couldn't talk you out of it." Harry gave him a wry smile. "You argued that I needed to let you come, let you all help. This is the same thing."

"No, it's—"

"It's the same, Neville. Not exactly, but close enough. Stop thinking your relationship with Graces is going to kill her. It wouldn't be on either of you if something happened. It would be on Voldemort." Neville flinched at the name despite himself. "On our society. It wouldn't be on you two. You two have done nothing wrong."

They fell into silence. Neville thought about what Harry said and to his surprise he did feel better. Not completely, but enough to not feel as though his world was falling apart around him.

"I'm going to the infirmary," Neville murmerd. "Can you tell the Professor I was feeling ill?"

"I can do that," Harry nodded.

Neville stood and walked to the door, before turning back to face Harry again. "You were right," he said, unsure if he should tell Harry this. "I can't tell you anything, but Draco is up to something. But you don't need to worry about that anymore," Neville said quickly. "It's all going to be taken care of. Everything's going to be okay."

"What? Wait—"

"It's being taken care of," Neville swore. "Trust me."

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to follow/review! And thanks for all the love after the last update!