Special thanks to Denarii for editing and to LV (Entendí. Gracias. Estoy muy feliz de que lo estés disfrutando.), Acquila Black , .73, Guest, Loyal Reader, rose antiquus, 2lazy2login, infinateconstellations, Kvandi, Naruhina1519, RIOSHO, emilyamazing, Guest, AnnyJackson19, ldavis02.02.2015, Malfoy Mouth James- MMJ, dril, anand891996, and sam for fevies :D

Chapter 98

Minerva McGonagall had been many things in her lifetime: a minister's daughter, a witch, student, a cat, a member of the order, a fighter, a Ministry worker, a friend, a wife, and a professor. Surprisingly, the last was the one that had given her the most joy. She had found peace at Hogwarts from the things that haunted her at night. Living in a place haunted by ghosts and poltergeists had taken away the things that haunted her. Her days were filled with curious minds, laughing children and Quidditch. She never wanted to go back to anything else, she belonged here. She felt she was as much apart of Hogwarts as the stones in the walls.

All of which made it harder when she realized how ignorant she was of what was going on within it. She was lost as to how to help the Malfoy children. She had listened to everything that had happened within the past few months and she had not a clue as to where to begin. She wondered if Graces had realized how ill-equipped she was at handling this situation. There were a few times that night that she had a feeling Neville did. The way Neville had looked at her—dubious and observant—let her know that his faith in her wasn't nearly as strong as it had once been. She deserved that; she had let him down. When she had let Graces down, when she hadn't pushed all the times she had seen something was wrong, she had destroyed that faith that children tended to place in the adults around them.

He wanted to believe, though. She was being given a second chance to redeem herself, a second chance to save this girl that had been under her care for the past six years. Her shoulders slumped as she sat on a stool in the hospital wing watching Graces and Neville sleep in parallel beds curtained off in the corner. They didn't even look peaceful while sleeping. Neville's brows were slightly stuck together, in the same manner they had been last night. Graces' eyes moved about under her lids and every once in a while her body shifted suddenly. Even in sleep her hell followed her into her dreams. She wondered if the two of them would continue to sneak away to be with one another at night. She didn't want them to, but she also couldn't deny that Graces needed Neville.

It wasn't healthy, the way they had coiled themselves around one another. She doubted they truly understood how disturbing their relationship was in some ways. There was love, real, true, once in a lifetime love, but it wasn't healthy. It had grown in shadows and was watered with desperation. They were so dependent on each other, so isolated from the world. She understood why they had cut the world out. It was the safest thing to do, keep everyone at a distance to protect and nurture the small budding of affection so it had a chance to bloom. But now that love had grown, and it had outgrown their little world and it intertwined them so much that there was no way they could keep it hidden anymore. It was in the way they looked at one another, the way they spoke had characteristics of the other. It was so obvious that they were influenced by the other if you were paying attention. It was just a matter of time before the wrong person found out and she worried about each of their sanity should something happen to the other.

She absently rubbed beneath her left eyebrow as she considered all of this and tried to ignore the headache she had. She had thought Dumbledore would have the answers. She resolved herself to do what was best for Graces, to right all the wrongs done to her. She had confessed her failures as a professor of this school to the Headmaster, explained that she had known something was wrong and ignored all the signs. She had thought that Dumbledore would have been disappointed. He had entrusted her with so much this year with the amount of time he was gone and she had failed in her greatest duty, to keep the children that were in their care safe. But, to her horror, he had known.

He had been aware of everything happening to the Malfoy children the whole time. He had known what Draco's task was even before the boy himself knew. And he had known of what was happening to Graces in the dungeons in October. He had been made aware as it all happened. Dumbledore had assured her that he and Severus were ready to take her to St Mungos the moment they felt that the muggle doctor couldn't help her, but she had a hard time trusting that to be true. Graces' heart had stopped and she had not been taken to a healer. Her breathing had stopped and still they didn't step in. She had a feeling that if Graces had died in those dungeons Dumbledore and Snape would have covered it up.

The only thing that the Headmaster had not known about was Neville. He had not known that Graces and Neville were at all involved. She closed her eyes and wondered if she had betrayed Neville in telling Dumbledore about his relationship with Graces. Because the news of their romance lead to the most sickening part of their encounter.

"If Graces changes her position in this war, there is hope that Draco will too. Severus has made it clear that Graces is the main reason Draco has even taken the mark. He would choose to save her life over any others. His loyalty to Voldemort is only out of fear for her safety and his parents' safety. Graces is no longer safe—regardless of Draco's success. If she's in love with Neville then she will never be safe again among Voldemort's followers. Her livelihood will depend on us winning this war. If they were willing to become spies for the order then—"

"You cannot be serious, Albus. You couldn't possibly mean to use their disadvantage to our benefit in this war. Do you realize how dangerous that would be for them? They have not even received their apparition license and you are suggesting they become spies? Graces Malfoy came to me for help. This is not aiding her, this is putting her in even more danger!"

"I don't like this anymore than you do, Minerva. But Graces and Draco Malfoy are a part of this war whether they want to be or not. Their father ensured that. Now the question is which side will they choose and what role will they play. Being spies for the order is safer than if they outright proclaimed loyalty to our cause."

She had left soon after that and made it clear that he was to keep away from Graces, Draco, and Neville. She was still debating if she wanted to leave her own post; leave and take the three of them with her, but then she realized she didn't know what she would do with them. And if she took those three she needed to take Thomas and an infant as well. It was all too much. She was more lost now than she had been last night. She had no idea what to do or how to help any of them.

"Minerva." McGonagall looked up from her thoughts as Pomfrey parted the curtains and walked into the small quarantine area. "How long have you been here?"

"A while," she admitted, looking back at Graces face. "How have they been?"

"Miss Malfoy woke a bit after noon and I was able to get her to eat. I don't think she's finished a whole meal in a while, her stomach turned shortly after, but she was fine. She fell back asleep shortly after I got her stomach settled."

"And Neville?"

Pomfrey's eyes shifted a bit. "He couldn't sleep at first, but maybe an hour or so after he arrived he dozed off. I came back to check on them though and he was up again." She paused. "He seemed worried, a bit nervous like how he was when he was a first year. He didn't want to talk or have a calming drought. I was able to convince him to let me give him something so he could sleep, though."

"They've slept through dinner," McGonagall noted, looking for a moment at Neville's watch laid down by the hospital bed.

"I have a feeling they both haven't had a good sleep in a long while."

"Why didn't you tell me about them?" McGonagall asked accusingly.

"I didn't realize they were still seeing one another. The last time I saw Graces it seemed she was ending things. Neville didn't seem so committed either." Pomfrey explained, looking a bit tired herself. "I assumed they decided that it had been a mistake."

McGonagall nodded as her thoughts went back to all that Graces had said last night. It had taken her so long to even recognize a relationship with Neville. But it never sounded as though Neville wasn't committed. Though Pomfrey probably only saw brief slivers of the truth.

"Draco tried to visit earlier," Pomfrey informed. "I told him that I wanted to avoid another student falling ill and sent him away."

"I think that a wise choice," Minerva nodded. "I don't think Miss Malfoy is ready to see him yet."

"Should I keep them the night? Or can they return to their own rooms once they wake?"

"Keep them. They can return to classes in the morning. I want them to be well rested. I also want them to have some private time to talk."

"Private, but not too private?" Pomfrey asked, unable to hold back a small grin.

"And here I thought it was Potter I needed to worry about sneaking around the castle at night."

"At least their sneaking around is a bit safer."

Minerva just shook her head, deciding she didn't want to dwell too much on all that Graces and Neville did after dark.

"How much longer are you going to stay?"

She had no idea. Her stomach was in knots. She sat there staring at both students trying to untangle the mess, hoping that if she had a solution she would feel better, but no solution was coming to her. "I don't know."

"Well, I have some work to do," Pomfrey informed, taking two vials from her pocket and handing them to McGonagall. "One for sleep and one for that nasty hangover you're trying to hide."

"Thank you, Poppy."

She took the potion for her hangover and pocketed the other vial as she continued to try and figure out a plan. Maybe she didn't need a plan now. She had told Graces that nothing needed to happen overnight and maybe the same thing could be said for this. Time was something she had at the moment. Draco wasn't close to succeeding at his task and both twins were residing safely within the castle's walls. She could use this time to actually get to know Graces, help her sort out what she wanted and gain her trust. Maybe during all of this a plan would just form; she prayed one would.

She thought about what Dumbledore had said and tried to imagine what Graces and Draco would be like as spies. They were both bright and cunning neither had qualms about lying or living a lie. But neither was as cold as they pretended to be. It was a spy's duty to witness the most reprehensible crimes and often times they themselves are forced into actions that go against everything they believe. Snape had done many things in the previous war and even now it seemed he was forced to participate in horrors.

When you're a spy that is all you are. There's no room for anything else. She thought about how Snape had left Graces to the whims of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, how he had chosen to not take her to St. Mungos, but to get a muggle to try and save her. She wouldn't have made those choices. She could not have lived with herself, but Snape did. And then he taught class as though nothing was amiss.

Graces couldn't do that. Draco couldn't do that, not without tearing themselves apart. Then again, who was to say Severus was whole. Now that she thought about it, he was very much a broken man. Sometimes it was hard to look at Severus Snape and remember his actions as a spy helped them so much during the war. She only accepted his attitude and temper because she knew that whatever she had endured he had endured more and worse. Could Graces and Draco turn into such vile people? They already were quick to anger and harsh words.

For a brief moment she yearned to speak with Severus, to ask him what it all had cost him. She knew that Dumbledore had in much the same way pushed Severus into the life of a spy, but she didn't know much of the details regarding it, and she was in no position to be asking such questions. Nor would it have been wise, considering she didn't want Severus to find out about the twins. She had forced Dumbledore to swear his silence regarding them. She didn't know if she trusted the potions master to know about Graces and Neville. So she was left with no guidance in any of this.

It wasn't a foreign feeling to her. When she was a girl she often felt it living in a muggle village with a father who didn't know what she was and a mother determined to not speak of such a vital part of herself until she absolutely had to. Then she had felt it again, only in a different way when she became a woman. She had loved and lost twice in her life. Each time she had felt the devastation of being left alone when they had passed. It had cut her so deeply that the markings of it would always be upon her. But she had never truly felt it here. Hogwarts had saved her twice from this feeling and now it could not.

"It didn't go well, did it?"

"Neville," her voice sounded scratchy, like it hadn't been used in a while. "How long have you been up?"

"Not long," Neville murmured, shifting uncomfortably.

She suddenly realized how odd it was for her to be sitting there watching them sleep. She couldn't bring herself to think of any of her students as grown, but as she looked at Neville now she realized he was in some respects already a man. His face had more than a five o'clock shadow on it from a day of not shaving, his shoulders were considerably broader and though she knew he was taller than her, she hadn't noticed until now, which was comical considering he was laying down at the moment.

Neville politely cleared his throat, as though to remind her of the time that had passed. "So?" he asked again. "Did it not go well?"

She frowned slightly. "I'm unsure what you are referring to."

"Dumbledore. I assume you've already spoken to him and you're here now… looking at us," he pointed out with slightly pinkened cheeks. "So it didn't go well?"

"It went well," she said gently, deciding that it wasn't quite a lie. "Headmaster Dumbledore agrees it best that nothing happen now and that I should handle things for the time being."

Neville nodded slightly, but there was something distrustful in the gesture, like he saw through her thinly veiled truths.

"I just wanted to check on the two of you."

Neville nodded, but the way his lips pressed together assured her that he was wary of her reasoning.

"Neville, how are you feeling with everything? We talked a lot regarding Graces last night, but we didn't discuss you."

"I don't think there's a need to discuss me," Neville said, his eyes shifting slightly.

"I think there's a lot to discuss in regards to you. Neville, you are carrying some very great burdens on your shoulder. Burdens that I can't even lift from you."

She watched as Neville chewed the inside of his lip. "Graces isn't a burden. Nothing about being with her is a burden."

"I'm not saying she is. I'm saying that in the past year you've had to grow up very quickly and take on responsibilities I don't think you were prepared for." She waited for a response, but Neville just sat in the bed refusing to make eye contact with her. She signed. "How are you planning to tell your gran?"

A small furrow appeared on Neville's face at the question. "About Graces?"

"Yes. I have a feeling Augusta won't approve."

"Probably not, but she rarely approves of what I do anyways." He gave a small shrug. "Just going to tell her I suppose."

"When?"

Neville took a deep breath and cocked his head to each side as though he were mentally trying to decide between two specific dates. "Summer?" he finally answered unsurely. "I'd like to tell her as soon as Graces tells Draco, but—" Neville pursed his lips slightly. "I think maybe in person would be better. I want to be able to introduce her to Graces; I think that may help matters."

A small smirk teased the corner of her mouth. "You do realize that Miss Malfoy doesn't always make a good first impression."

"Oh? She didn't charm you when you first met her?" Neville asked teasingly. "Was it her prissy attitude and entitlement? Or her and Draco's grand theatrics?"

She smiled, but felt it best not to answer with her first impression of Miss Malfoy. "I plead the Fifth."

Neville scowled. "What?"

"It's a muggle saying, well, an American muggle saying. It means I should prefer not to answer lest my answer incriminate me," she explained further.

"I plead the Fifth," he repeated. "Do me a favor and don't teach Graces that saying."

She laughed. "And what was your first impression of Miss Malfoy? I highly doubt it was much better than mine."

Neville looked over at Graces to ensure she was sleeping, leading the older woman to believe that the story she was about to hear was not one that Graces herself knew. "It wasn't bad actually. I first saw her in Diagon Alley when I was six, maybe seven. She was walking with her Mum, and Draco of course, and they were eating candies. Not her mum, but her and Draco." Neville clarified. "And they were candies that create smoke when you pop them in your mouth, but Draco and her were making the smoke come out of their nose too."

Neville smiled. "She was giggling so loud. Draco was pretending to be a dragon and she thought it was so funny. It was infectious. I was watching from a store window and I couldn't help but laugh with her. Her mum kept shushing the two of them half-heartedly, but she was amused too. I thought it was so grand that I asked my Grandfather if I could get some too."

"Did he get you some?"

"Yeah," Neville nodded, but his face slowly lost it's smile. "He did, but... I don't know. It wasn't as fun eating them alone. I mean, my grandfather had a few with me when we got home and it was kind of fun, but it wasn't the same. Graces at one point had put some in her mouth and made it so her hair draped in front of her face and then blew out this pink and purple smoke and her hair was just intertwined in it and Draco was laughing and trying to waft her hair and smoke out of his face."

She considered what it meant that Neville so vividly remembered all this. Last night Graces had briefly mentioned that Neville had been lonely, but now she wondered how deep that loneliness ran. Graces had become quite isolated from her close friends this year, but Neville really didn't have any close friends. He seemed to just join in with groups of friends when they would have him.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, realizing Poppy had only said Graces woke to eat, but there was no mention of Neville eating.

Neville shook his head dismissively.

"Have you eaten today?" Neville's avoidant gaze was answer enough. "I made chowder last night, but most of it has gone uneaten I'm afraid," she explained, taking her wand and summoning the chowder and then flicking her wand another time to warm it. "It would be a shame to let it go to waste. I worked so hard making it."

She nudged the bowl towards him and Neville, clearly not wanting to offend, flushed and thanked her before timidly eating it.

"It's really good," Neville complimented awkwardly, circling his spoon in the thick liquid and taking another bite.

"I enjoy cooking, when I have the time."

They fell into a comfortable silence as Neville continued eating and her mind wandered through all the new information she now had regarding these two.

"Neville," she started gently. "I understand that you may find it hard to discuss all that you're feeling. You may not feel the need nor want to share those things with me, but I am here. If ever you do want to."

Neville nodded uneasily and took another bite of the chowder. McGonagall took in a breath and decided to leave it at that.

"I'm scared that if I admit that any of this is hard, that if I complain even in the slightest the fates will take her away from me," Neville said quietly into the bowl.

"That's not how things work, Neville," she said gently, knowing the feeling herself.

"That's how things work for me," Neville murmured. "I never imagined she would choose me. I really didn't. I always thought she would choose her family. I mean she said she was going to consider me a choice, but—" Neville shrugged and shook his head.

"When things get good," Neville whispered tightly. "Something always happens."

She was silent for a minute, thinking of all the possibilities of disaster. "If something happens, Neville. You will have Graces and she will have you. And you both will have me. I for one believe that between the three of us we will be able to handle anything the fates decide to throw our way."

She didn't know if it made Neville truly feel better, but he thanked her with a tight smile. She supposed nothing could make him feel better now, it was all too fresh, too raw. This all had to still be a shock, but with time she hoped he would feel better.

"I'm very happy for you two, Neville. Truly. I hope you know that. I'm sure you both think that people will judge and think you're wrong for one another, but I don't think that. I think she's good for you and I think you're good for her," she added kindly, standing up to leave. "I do think your relationship as it is now needs work, but I'm sure you're aware that what is grown in shadows can never truly flourish."

Neville frowned slightly and twisted his mouth. "Except for primrose, japanese forest grass, pulmonaria—or lungwort as you would call it—, fox gloves—"

"Don't be cheeky," the older woman tutted, rolling her eyes. "You know what I meant."

"Yeah, I know," Neville chuckled softly. "I want to remain in those shadows though, until Graces wants differently. I don't want to rush her, especially when it comes to telling Draco."

The older woman signed. "I don't think she has much time to wait."

"I don't care," Neville declared. "She gets every single second that we can allow her. I don't want her rushed into this."

"So you're expecting him to take it badly."

"I have no idea," Neville answered honestly. "I can't imagine it going well, though."

She nodded. "Get some sleep, Neville. You both will be expected in class tomorrow."

Ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

It was still early by the time Graces woke in the hospital wing. First light still hadn't spilled out from the windows. She yawned and tried to stretch, but her limbs felt heavy and her eyes though open were protesting to be closed once again. She turned over to see if Neville was still sleeping and jolted at Draco sitting beside her.

Her movement caused him to look up from the book he was reading. "Are you feeling better?" he asked, moving closer to her and closing the book shut.

It took Graces a few moments to remember that she was supposedly there because of illness. "Oh, yes. Much better."

"Are you sure?" Draco frowned. "You look a bit nauseous."

"No, not at all. I'm fine," she lied, laughing breathlessly and sitting up. "You worry too much," she added, her eyes shifting to look anywhere but at her brother, her brother that she had betrayed. Graces swallowed hard at the thought.

"So… Longbottom's sick too, huh?" Draco nodded his chin over at Neville behind him.

"Y-yeah, I guess."

"You two probably gave it to one another in Herbology class," Draco mused, looking at the Gryffindor behind him. Neville slept on his side, his back facing both of them. "Hopefully he feels better when he wakes too."

"You care?" Graces asked stunned.

Draco shrugged. "I mean, I don't wish him ill. Anyone who punches Potter isn't that bad of a bloke in my books."

Graces frowned and her eyes shifted as she turned those words over.

"Listen," Draco said quietly, moving and taking her hand in his. Graces jolted slightly at the touch, but Draco didn't seem to notice. "You and Graham don't need to feel bad about your relationship. I, uh, am pretty sure that you didn't tell me because you both were worried about my feelings," he said uncomfortably. "And I just wanted you to know that that's not something for you to worry about. I'm very happy about it. Honest. I'm not at all hurt."

Graces was confused at first, but slowly as she turned the words over in her head and examined them realization began to dawn. And that pit in her stomach grew wider at what he was implying and what she had never noticed, because she was too wrapped up in herself. "Draco, there's nothing going on between me and Graham."

Draco's jaw tightened, but when he spoke he was careful to keep his words cool and crisp. "You just both happened to be out all night and sneaking into the common room at the same time?"

Graces didn't know how to answer that. If she answered honestly then there would be a surplus of follow up questions that she didn't feel brave enough to answer at the moment.

"Listen, it's fine. It is, but I don't think that it's appropriate for you two to be—" He took a deep breath. "—doing whatever it was you two were doing."

"We wer—"

"You two have to do everything by the books, Graces. Graham's family is scrutinizing his every move. Most think that it was foolish of him to take control from his father. It's all so fragile right now, and they need to adore you. They're old fashioned ninnys, like father's side. You need to court properly. You need to behave properly."

"Draco, I am not dating Graham. I am not sleeping with Graham. I do not love Graham."

Draco's lips pursed in a way that reminded her of their mother when they had done something she disapproved of. "Then why are you on the potion?"

Graces' mouth popped open in surprise. She had no idea how Draco knew about that. She fumbled for something to say, but couldn't find any explanation without telling him about Neville. Which she was not at all ready to do.

"I—well," Graces blinked rapidly and tried to grab for something to say anything to say.

"You're having sex," Draco finished with a tone of mild irritation and superiority. "And you didn't want to get pregnant. Smart. So you started taking the potion."

Graces was saved from having to say more by Neville very awkwardly coughing and clearing his throat in the bed behind Draco. They met eyes briefly before Draco turned towards him. Neville awkwardly lifted his hand in an odd greeting that in many ways felt more like an apology.

Draco rubbed his forehead in awkward frustration. "Morning, Longbottom."

"Uh, m-morning," Neville stammered unsurely, looking over at Graces for confirmation that that indeed just happened.

"Feeling better?"

Neville frowned and twisted uncomfortably, clearly surprised by Draco's civility. "Yeah… thanks." he added awkwardly.

"Good," Draco said, nodding. Neville sat there for a few moments, before shyly getting up to go to the loo. Graces stared at her brother unsurely.

"Why are you being so nice to Longbottom?" She asked carefully.

"I imagine he's still sweet on you and that waking up to hear us discussing your sex life with Graham may be a bit hurtful."

"And you care? That it would be hurtful to him?"

"I am not without empathy," Draco shrugged. "And he's not so bad of a bloke."

Graces' brows raised in surprise. "You should tell him that."

"I have. Don't be a child," Draco snorted, when he saw her eyes widen. "It doesn't make us friends. It doesn't change anything. I can acknowledge that Longbottom is a nice bloke and be civil, but at the end of the day he is a Longbottom and we are Malfoys."

"And what does that mean?" Graces asked quietly.

"It means that when his being a nice, noble, righteous bloke gets him killed you and I will probably have a moment to think "Well, that's too bad." and move on with our lives."

"Neville is not going to be killed," Graces stated firmly. "You don't even know him."

"I don't need to. I'm sure he is his father's son, just as Potter is his father's son. And like their fathers they will fall, because they will always be the ones to jump into a fight. Doesn't matter if they don't have a plan, or resources. What matters to them is what the fight is about. That's not a way to live, that's a way to get yourself killed, or worse." Draco mumbled. "As Neville's family knows all too well."

A lump came to her throat at Draco's words and she tried to gain control of the fear that overwhelmed her at the mere thought of Neville being harmed. She thought to say something, but Neville's voice cut her off.

"Well, this is a pleasant chat," the sandy haired boy said hollowly looking at Draco from the entrance of the curtains.

"Dear Gods, Longbottom. How fast do you pee? Did you even wash your hands?" Draco asked in a mixture of surprise and disgust.

Neville flushed and mumbled that he decided he wanted to get dressed as well and came back for his clothes. He picked up his trousers and wrinkled shirt and made his way to leave, but then stopped in the doorway. Graces watched as he seemed to be internally debating with himself.

"I'm not just my father's son. I'm my mother's too," Neville proclaimed. "And I'm very proud to be their son, because they fought for what they believed in and bowed to no one and nothing but their beliefs. I want to be the kind of man that does what's right and not the kind of man that is ruled by fear."

"I suppose we have different definitions of what is right," Draco said coolly.

Neville narrowed his eyes. "I don't think we do. I think we have different motivations though."

"I am not scared," Draco proclaimed, almost viciously.

"I am," Neville admitted, his eyes shifting about. "I'm not ashamed to admit I'm frightened of things to come. I just don't let it influence what I'm going to do. I want to do the right thing and sometimes doing the right thing can be dangerous, but I have no intentions of dying. So stop filling her head with such nonsense."

"It's not nonsense," Draco stated matter of factly. "You jump into dangerous situations without a plan or even really any knowledge of what is going on. How will that not get you killed?"

"That's not true."

Draco raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Okay," he mused. "Let's talk about the Ministry." Graces felt as though her heart was going to beat out of her chest. She looked over at Neville, but the sandy haired boy had his eyes locked solely on Draco. "You didn't have a plan, that's obvious—"

"We had a plan," Neville cut in. "It just changed a few times."

Draco gave him a dead panned stare. "You didn't have a plan and you were almost killed. You just follow Potter blindly and think that it will all work out, because good always defeats evil. Right?"

"I do not follow blindly."

"Did you know why you were at the ministry? Did Harry even tell you all of the information before you left?"

Neville was silent at that question.

"Did you ask?" Draco challenged further. Neville's continued silence was answer enough.

Draco clicked his tongue before continuing. "So you fought tooth and nail to escape from Umbridge's office to where Harry was, to follow him to you didn't even know where. And then when you got there you still didn't know or understand what was going to happen?"

"I knew that it was right."

"My point," Draco said calmly, even gently. "To you what matters is what the fight is about. And you're willing to let that be your last stand. Survival is your last priority, your first is about what's right."

"And what are your priorities?" Neville challenged.

"Survival. We want to survive," Draco said, gesturing to Graces and himself.

"What if you survive and you don't like the outcome?"

"Am I alive? Then I like the outcome."

"There's more to living than a pulse."

"I suppose your family would know that better than most."

"Draco!" Graces hissed.

"It's fine," Neville said dismissively, moving closer to Draco, his eyes still not even glancing at her. "What if you live and Graces dies?"

"That will not happen," Draco dismissed.

"It could."

"No—" Draco said darkly "—it can't."

"It almost did," Neville reminded, his own feelings regarding the matter seeping out. She could hear his fear and in some ways an accusation. "Twice in less than a few months."

"I have a plan."

"And what's that?" Neville asked, laughing bitterly. "For her to marry Graham Montague? Graham? Seriously?"

Draco fell silent and a shiver went up her spine as she watched his face turn from outrage to something more quizzical.

"I didn't tell you any of this, how do you know so much? I never told you about Graham."

"You didn't need to. I walked in on his proposal. Back in October," Neville emphasized in a reminder.

"That's right he told me about that," Draco mused slowly, his voice and look still full of distrust. "And you didn't assume it was made out of love?"

"You clearly didn't hear it," Neville deadpanned. "You didn't answer my question though. Is life worth living if your sister's not in it?"

Draco's nostrils flared and Graces inwardly cringed as his cheeks and neck pinked in rage. "I am not going to dignify that with an answer. In fact, I think this whole conversation is over." Draco turned back towards her, but she didn't feel as though he were looking at her. "And Longbottom I take back what I said about you being a nice bloke!"

Neville raised his brows in a half-hearted goodbye to her and slipped off to the loo.

"Self righteous, sanctimonious—"

"Those mean the same thing," Graces interrupted quietly.

"It needs to be said twice," Draco snapped. "Longbottom thinks he's so morally superior—"

"I don't think that's what he was saying. I—"

"Don't defend him." Draco cursed, slamming his hand down on his knee. "Just be on my damn side. He's an arse."

"He-he's always been very good to us," she said quietly, her fingers around the ring Neville had given her. "Keeping our secrets, helping me, even when we didn't deserve it."

"He wouldn't be helping us if he wasn't obsessed with you."

Graces bit her lip. "That's not true and you know that. He's not like that."

"Can we stop talking about Neville Longbottom?" Draco groaned, leaning back in his chair and glowering at the ceiling.

"Maybe I want to talk about him," Graces proclaimed rather timidly.

"Why?" Draco asked scowling.

"Because... because he's my friend."

"Neville Longbottom is not your friend," Draco said rolling his eyes.

"Yes, he is."

"No. He's not."

"He is. We have a good time together in class and we talk. I enjoy talking to him."

She watched as Draco's face contorted between several different emotions before he stood up and grabbed his satchel. "So let me get this straight. I don't know who you're fucking and I don't know who your friends are."

"Draco—" Graces pleased.

"You barely speak to me, but you talk to Neville bloody Longbottom?"

"No, Draco, listen—"

"Just forget it. You know what. I don't know you anymore, and I don't even think you care. I don't even think you miss me either. Which is perfect because I guess you won't miss me when I'm really gone. You'll just go on living this new life you forged without me."

"Draco!" She swung her legs off the bed to try and stop him from leaving, but by the time she was outside the curtains he was already sidestepping Neville who was walking back and out the door. Neville stood there for a moment looking at her and the door where Draco disappeared and he moved as though he were going to chase after him.

"Don't," Graces ordered, covering her face and going back to the bed. She buried her face in the pillow and wept. Draco was right and the guilt swallowed her up. She had wronged him in so many different ways.

She felt Neville's hand gently brush against the back of her head and she moved away.

"Please don't make me feel better."

Neville moved his hand, but she felt the bed sink as he sat down beside her. "Did you tell him about us?"

"No," she said tightly. "I'm too much of a coward for that."

"You're not a coward."

"You're wrong. I am."

"You're not," Neville promised, his hand finding its way back to her.

Graces held her breath in the pillow and was thankful when she heard Neville put up some silencing charms. No one else was in the hospital wing, but she appreciated that he seemed to be thinking ahead.

"You need to breathe," Neville reminded. He kept touching her and the small well-meaning act made her feel more suffocated than her actually refusing to breathe. "Graces."

"Stop trying to make me feel better," Graces snapped, heaving in a deep breath of air. "I don't want to feel better."

"What happened?"

She told him what had happened and what Draco had said, but Neville didn't say anything comforting at her words. When the silence was too long to be comfortable she rolled over and looked up at him. Neville had a pensive look about him, but there was something else behind his eyes. Something she knew all too well, a look of torture and regret.

"I-I have a theory," Neville said quietly. "When we first got together and you wanted to remain detached, you talked constantly about Draco. All the time," Neville emphasized. "I mean we couldn't go a night without his name being mentioned or some memory or story regarding him. He was just—" Neville paused and his lips pressed tightly together as he searched for words. "He was your world. I mean—I've always known that you and Draco were very close and basically attached at the hip, the whole school has known since day one that you two are insanely close. People used to make jokes regarding the two of you and how close you were."

"Jokes?" Graces frowned.

Neville's head moved from side to side. "It's not important. My point is that as we've become close you've talked about Draco less and less and you see him less and less. In the beginning you couldn't allow yourself to fall in love with me. You said as much from the start. It's why you didn't say my name for a long time, because you wanted to be reminded that you couldn't feel anything for me beyond something carnal. Maybe saying Draco's name reminded you of that as well, reminded you of what you would lose should you feel anything for me. "

It made sense. Everything Neville was saying made sense. She tried to look for a flaw in his logic, but couldn't seem to find it.

"My theory is that you don't believe we could both exist in the same world together," Neville said sadly.

Graces sniffed and bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood. "I'm going to lose my brother. He won't forgive this."

"I want Draco in your life. In our life. I did a poor job today of showing that, but I am going to do better."

"It won't matter, Neville," Graces whispered.

"Then tell me what will," Neville said desperately. "Tell me what I can do and I will do it."

Graces shook her head. "If I knew I would tell you. I know I have to tell him about you, about us, but I don't know how."

Neville ran his hand through his hair. "Nothing needs to change overnight," he reminded. "Nothing. Maybe it would be best if you spent more time with him. Heal some of the distance between you two. He loves you and I know you love him. I think you two both just feel so far away from each other that neither of you can—"

"Neville, it's not that simple. It's—"

"Just hear me out. Why don't you focus less on us and more on Draco. Spend time with him and less time with me. Maybe talk me up a bit," Neville grinned shyly.

"I don't think a bit will be enough. He currently thinks you're a sanctimonious arse."

"Great," Neville sighed. He glanced down at his watch. "We're going to be late to class, go get dressed."

"I'll be late, you just go. It's odd if you wait for me, we still need to appear separately."

"Even with Draco thinking we're friends?" Neville frowned.

"Do I need to remind you how thin the ice we are on is?" Graces asked, getting up and grabbing for her clothes, which she was sad to see were just as wrinkled as Neville's.

"No, you don't," Neville said getting up to go on ahead.

"I'm going to be really late," Graces advised. "I need to go to the dorms, I need to get some fresh clothes."

"I'll inform Professor Sprout."

Graces thanked him and risked a chaste kiss on the lips before turning to leave.

"Graces," Neville called, gaining her attention back. "Survival isn't Draco's first priority. It's you, you and then survival. When you tell him about us you are not going to lose him."

Graces gave Neville a sad smile. "I wish I could be as sure."

"Spend more time with Draco and you'll be reminded."

"And if you're wrong?" she asked, her eyes already brimming with tears at just the thought.

"I have been wrong about many things, Graces. And I will be wrong about many things in all the years to come. I also have a suspicious feeling that there will be times where I'm not wrong, but it's not worth the fight and I will admit to being wrong to keep the peace in our future household. But I am not wrong about this."

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