Special thanks to RobynJerri21, anand891996,Midnight 5899, Purplestan, sam, RIOSHO, Kvandi, Ihatecarbonara, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Guest, Krakengirl, guest, Sleepy Reader, Naruhina1519, Rey of Light, Guest, trispectrum, Girlfromseattle, Leia, Lotr, Kaylenepoctor94, Kula, Kvandi, Hmm, Guest and 030405 for the reviews! And Denarii for editing.
Chapter 100
"Mr. Longbottom, I need to speak with you before your first period," McGonagall instructed as she walked by the Gryffindor table.
Neville frowned. He wondered what was so important that it couldn't wait until tonight at dinner. He looked over at Graces who was sitting with Draco chatting about something inconsequential it seemed and sucking a bit of marmalade innocently from the knuckle of her thumb. Neville looked away quickly and buried the thoughts that came with that image before redirecting his thoughts to why McGonagall wanted to speak to him.
"Morning," Harry yawned, sitting across from Neville and blocking his view.
"Morning," Neville echoed, still a bit distracted.
"Ron and Hermione are still coming down, thought I would sneak out a bit early when I saw you left."
Neville blinked a few times. "Oh," he said lamely.
"Yeah," Harry shrugged. "So… how are things?"
"Um, good."
"Good." Harry pursed his lips slightly. "And, Graces?" he asked hushly.
Neville flushed a bit. "Also good."
"Good…"
Neville watched as Harry seemed to be struggling for words. Neville felt a bit bad, he knew Harry wanted to be more of a friend, but he also wasn't sure how he felt talking about Graces.
"You know we should have like a code word for her or something," Harry said after a long, awkward silence. "Maybe when I ask about your Gran it could be me asking about Graces."
Neville's brows furrowed uncomfortably at the thought of that association. "I, uh, don't really like the idea of thinking of my Gran when talking about my relationship with Graces. But a code word would be good, especially if you are going to be asking me about her in the open like this." Neville gave Harry a pointed look which told the raven-haired boy how much he disliked that he was asking him about Graces right now, even if the Gryffindor table was practically empty with it being so early.
"Right, sorry," Harry flushed, pursing his lips together as he thought further. "What about a plant?"
Neville let out a wisp of a laugh. "A plant would work."
"Grand… so what plant would you want to use? Uh, I mean when you think of her what would—"
Neville narrowed his eyes. "Harry, I am not so much of a sap that I am going to poetically compare her to a rose or something."
"I mean a rose would work. Lots of layers, pretty, thorns."
"Got a bit of a crush on my girl, Potter?" Neville asked, taking a bite out of his toast.
"Piss off," Harry laughed.
"It's fine," Neville grinned. "I mean I can't blame you now can I. Do you want me to put a good word in? I'm sure she will love that rose comment. I'll make sure to tell her."
"If you even breathe that to Malfoy, Nev, I swear I will hex you into next week."
Neville chuckled. "No promises, Harry. I think she would get a right laugh out of that one."
Harry muttered a few words into his porridge bowl that would lose them at least twelve house points per word, before asking in a very patronizing manner. "So how is your rose?"
"Good… growing, which is difficult I think considering the soil it had come from, but I think this year's changes have made it stronger. New pot, new soil—"
"New gardener," Harry added.
Neville chuckled. "I've done very little. It grew on its own."
"I find that hard to believe."
"It's true. Maybe I've brought some new ideas to the fertilizer, but that's about it. Perceptive little thing, lots of obstacles to grow around and by Merlin she figures out a way to wind herself to where she wants to be."
"I thought you weren't going to be sappy," Harry teased.
Neville made a gesture to Harry that his Gran would have grounded him a week for and then returned to his breakfast. Harry laughed and they fell into silence. Neville's mind was just beginning to wander back to why McGonagall wanted to talk to him when Harry's voice pulled his attention back.
"Listen, about Draco I—"
Before Harry could finish Ron and Hermione entered the hall. Neville silently thanked his luck and began packing to leave. He had a feeling he should address this with him, but he wasn't ready to do that now. And honestly all he was going to tell Harry was what he told him the other night. It was being handled and he can't talk about it.
"Morning, Nev," Ron yawned.
"Mornin'" Neville greeted, snagging an apple for his satchel.
"Neville," Hermione greeted, nodding her head. Neville looked up at her for a moment, before pointedly deciding that he was still too angry with her. "Leaving so soon?"
"Still not talking to you," Neville stated firmly, swinging his bag over his shoulder and leaving.
He heard Ron's utter confusion as well as Harry's, but he didn't care. Hermione had crossed a bloody line and he wasn't going to forgive her that trespass anytime soon. He was so engrossed with these thoughts that he completely forgot about Professor McGonagall's request. When he entered Herbology Graces wasn't at their desk, he found her over with Professor Sprout speaking quietly at her desk. The conversation seemed to not be going well based on Sprout's crossed arms and pursed lips.
He chewed the inside of his lip for a moment before setting his things down and tentatively approaching. Professor Sprout looked up at him and seemed even more determined to win whatever argument was occuring.
"I suggest you take a seat, Miss Malfoy, my answer is no."
Neville looked at Graces, who looked at him despondently, but didn't move to her seat.
"If you won't assign me another partner then I will drop the class."
Neville's eyes widened considerably at her words.
"If you drop the class then you will not be able to enter a healer program after your graduation," Sprout reminded. "But that is your choice."
"Fine," Graces nodded.
"Wait—" Neville started, completely caught off guard by what was occuring, but refusing to allow her to leave. "What are you doing?"
"I am dropping the class," Graces stated firmly, glancing at Neville's hand that was inappropriately on her waist, a gesture she only allowed in private. Neville moved his hand and stared at her.
"You can't," Neville exclaimed desperately. "You-you—"
His chest suddenly felt very tight and he could feel emotions rising up in him that he thought he would never have to feel again.
"Did you change your mind?" Neville asked, unable to stop his voice from breaking.
Graces' narrowed her eyes and glanced at Sprout for a moment. "No," she said firmly.
"Then why are you doing this?" Neville demanded, still unable to hide his own emotion.
"Changed her mind about what?" Professor Sprout asked curiously, now moving from around her desk so she was on the same side as her students.
"Neville," Graces whispered dangerously. "You need to control yourself. Immediately. Everything is fine."
"You will never get into a healer program," Neville reminded. "You cannot drop this class. You—"
"I am not going to be a healer."
Neville stared at her. "What?" he whispered.
"What do you mean you're not going to be a healer," Neville demanded, circling around Graces when she moved to leave.
"Stop it, Neville," Graces snarled.
"Why are you doing this?"
"You are causing a scene."
"What do you mean you're not going to be a healer?" He demanded just as savagely.
Graces glanced at the Greenhouse door where just beyond students were walking to the Greenhouse. "People are coming. Do you really want to have this out now?" she asked, her voice trembling. "I need you to be practical. I think we both know I won't be a healer so this doesn't matter. What does matter is how you are acting right now."
Neville looked at the people coming in and knew she was right. He needed to let her go. He felt sick, he thought of what this meant to Graces and he didn't understand how she could walk away.
"I think you can be a healer," he whispered, voice shaking as he moved out of her way so she could leave. He could feel the tears welling up and he wanted to leave as well, but had a feeling Professor Sprout wouldn't allow it.
He looked over at his Professor. "Our project is done, we're basically just baby sitting it for the rest of the year. She-she can have it. Can't you let her switch, or switch me. I—She's passing the class. She—"
"I am aware, Neville," Professor Sprout said with more patience than he probably deserved. "I pointed this out to Miss Malfoy as well. I also pointed out that if I switched her she would not get credit for the project you two have completed. I asked her for a reason and she wouldn't give one. And I will not disrupt my class and switch her partners without a good reason."
Neville bit the inside of his cheek and racked his brain for a good reason to switch.
"We're just not working out well as partners," he tried to explain. "I—"
"I know that's not true," Professor Sprout said patiently. "There's been a few times it seemed you two were actually enjoying each other's company."
"I kissed her," Neville blurted out. "I kissed her and I-I think she's uncomfortable now."
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
"Miss Malfoy! Miss Malfoy!"
Graces turned as Sprout ran towards her very clumsily from the Greenhouse. When the older woman saw she stopped she stopped running and began walking and gesturing for her to come. Graces paused unsure as to what was happening, but she tentatively began to walk towards the Hufflepuff.
Professor Sprout was still a bit winded when Graces got to her. She gave the other woman a moment to smooth out her robes and gather herself. For a brief moment she wondered if she was about to lean on her, but Graces had a feeling her general disposition prevented the other woman from being so familiar.
"You may switch partners. I am assigning you to work with with Miss Granger."
Graces scowled. "Why?"
Spout gestured to the side with her head. "Neville told me what happened."
Graces frown increased. "What happened?" she asked slowly.
Sprout folded her hands gently in front of her and Graces tried to figure out why she was seeing such pity in the older woman's eyes. "That he kissed you and now you feel uncomfortable. Which is understandable," she said pointedly, giving Graces a meaningful look. "After what happened to you—it is completely understandable that you wouldn't want to remain partners with Neville."
For a moment she didn't understand what Sprout was talking about and then it began to dawn on her. Graces eyes widened in mortification as she realized her professor was talking about what happened to her with Knott.
"Neville didn't do anything like that," Graces said quickly.
"I didn't think he did. But you made your feelings about Neville very clear earlier in the year, and he clearly has not respected your feelings or your boundaries. I plan to talk with him regarding that," Sprout declared, her eyes sparking with fury and protectiveness.
Graces felt her heart beating out of her chest. She had allowed Neville to make sacrifices on her behalf many times, but this was not one she would allow. Not when it could hurt his chances of a career he wanted. Not when it would lose him Sprout's good will.
"Neville did kiss me, back in September, and I kissed him back. And have been kissing him ever since."
Sprout blinked in surprise.
"What? Then why—"
"My family doesn't know about the kiss, or my feelings towards Neville, but they do feel that my friendship with him is not appropriate." Graces swallowed, but continued on with as much dignity as she could muster. "It has been made clear to me that they will not allow it to continue. So I was given the option to get a new partner or to drop the class."
"You know they can't make you do that."
"Yes, they can," Graces stated firmly, taking a deep breath and looking about the grounds. "I love my family. And for sixteen years I lived my life as the daughter my parents have wanted and expected me to be. I am not ready for my family to realize that I am not what they wanted. I'm not ready to lose that love."
"And your relationship with Neville?"
"That's private. And must remain so," Graces added quietly.
Professor Sprout seemed to be trying to wrap her head around this new information.
"I am sorry about... all of this," Graces waived her hand around as though that explained it all. "I'm sorry Neville lied to you—well, didn't lie so much as mislead you. Understand he did it to protect me."
"Is there more he needs to protect you from?"
"Yes. I know you want to help me, but I'm fine. Professor McGonagall is helping me, helping us. What I do need from you is discretion and a different Herbology partner."
Sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
Graham waited for Draco to show up to work on the cabinet. He actually hadn't been speaking with Draco or Graces since the earlier incident. He wasn't speaking to anyone. He had been so utterly stupid. He had done exactly what he had warned Graces would be her downfall. He sat in the room of requirement and wondered whose sins were greater. His or Graces'?
Longbottom was at least a pureblood. Graces could cling to that if she needed to. He didn't have that even. Not that he believed it mattered, but in some ways it did. His deviancy would be thought more disgusting than Graces'. Hers was one of loyalty to principles. People in their circle—though they label Neville a blood traitor—still saw him as a wizard, as human. The people he associated with wouldn't even consider Wamil that.
He ran a hand through his hair and tried to not think of Wamil so much. It didn't do him any good. He had his night and it was over. He had sworn to himself that this would be over and he was going to maintain that promise.
"Evening," Draco mumbled, walking in through the door and holding an assortment of books and parchment.
Graham lifted his chin in greeting, before his mind was once again swallowed up by his own thoughts. Draco opened up a few parchments he had with notes scribbled about and tossed his cloak down on a chair before rolling up his sleeves to work. Graham looked over at the mark Draco had branded on his arm, taking in the inky black against his alabaster skin. Draco noticing his stare turned to him, his gray eyes waiting for him to make a remark to break the silence. Graham looked away from the challenge. If anything he didn't even feel like he could talk with Draco, not with this lie between them.
The thing was he really wanted to talk with Draco. Draco was the only one he did talk to these days. His family wanted nothing to do with him. Sure, they let him lead, but no one seemed to approve of him. He was a stain against their beautiful tapestry. It didn't matter that the Higgs were slaughtered, that neutrality wasn't tolerated, they hated him for overthrowing his father. They hated him for being the one to make the hard decision. Draco understood though.
"I'm not doing anything with your sister," Graham said quietly, still too nervous to meet Draco's eyes. "I wouldn't do that."
"Well, I'm kind of counting on you to do that," Draco mumbled. Graham could hear that Draco was reading something, he didn't even need to look up to know that the blonde had that tone when he was reading.
"Our arrangement will be maintained," Graham flushed. "But it's not like that between the two of us."
"What exactly is it like?" Draco asked, his attention still not focused on Graham.
"I don't know."
"It seems to me that you two are barely friends right now," Draco answered for him. "In fact you seem angry with her." Graham allowed his silence to be answer enough. "You've seemed angry with her after the incident."
Graham said nothing. He had a feeling that while Draco never reprimanded him for the things he said to Graces in the hospital wing, he didn't truly forgive him for it. He imagined that Draco had very mixed emotions regarding that night. Feeling grateful that his sister lived and also feeling much like Graham did in thinking her actions selfish and weak.
"I know you love Graces," he said quietly. "But I need you to know that I don't."
Draco finally looked up from his papers, his gray eyes flashing with anger. "For fuck's sake, Graham. I really don't need this right now."
Graham finished as Draco tossed shoved away the old rickety desk he was working on. "I'm going to die!" the blonde shouted. "Do you understand that? I am going to bloody die! I'm never going to finish this damn cabinet and I am never going to complete this task and I am going to die!"
"Draco," Graham started, trying to remember where he was going with this. Damning himself for not being able to speak well regarding his own feelings.
"You know what I have?" Draco asked angrily. "I only have comfort in knowing Graces will not die. That's it. That's all I have!"
"Draco, please. Calm down and listen to—"
"And now—NOW—you decide it's a good time to tell me that you don't love my sister." Draco laughed in a way that made Graham take a few steps back. "That's just great to hear, Graham. So not only am I going to die, but I have no idea what I am leaving my sister to."
"I never said I loved your sister," Graham said calmly.
"No, you didn't," Draco sighed, his voice sounding choked with emotion. "But the way you just said you didn't leads me to believe that you don't see love coming. I have a feeling you don't even like her."
"I like her," Graham said flatly, not knowing what he should say but knowing better than to say it was complicated.
"I'm not stupid," Draco sniffed. "I know she's different. I know she's keeping things from me. She even told me she was." Draco drew in a deep breath and gathered himself more. "She also told me today—before you—that you two were not seeing one another."
"She did?" Graham asked, surprised.
"Graces wants to try," Draco said eventually. Laying himself bare with vulnerability. "She wants to be—I don't know—my sister again?"
Graham suppressed a scoff. He didn't see how Graces could ever be what she was to Draco without coming clean. And if she came clean he didn't know that Draco could forgive her. He had a hard time forgiving her these days.
"Hypocrite," a tiny voice whispered in his mind.
"She's said this before, as you know, but this time she seems to mean it."
Graham stared at Draco leaning against the cabinet and realized that Draco needed to believe this. All of his feelings regarding Graces aside, Draco needed to believe he could have her back. And he needed to believe that she was going to be taken care of.
"I will always take care of Graces, Draco," Graham swore slowly. Draco glanced at him and then away. "I will," Graham repeated more passionately.
"You don't even like her," Draco said thickly.
Graham swallowed and tried to sort through all his feelings regarding Graces. Regarding both Malfoys. "You're my best friend," Graham forced himself to say. "The animosity I have towards Graces is because I want her to be and do better by you. I will take care of Graces, because I made that promise to you. So regardless of whether she is good to you, I will be. Graces will be taken care of the way you want her to be because I have promised you that, so you don't need to worry about Graces. It's not about the money, or the agreement we all made months ago, it's about our friendship and how I plan to honor that. You worry about how your sister will be treated and that's not something you need to worry about. I will treat her well because she is your sister."
Graham's focus remained on Draco, despite the fact that Draco clearly wished his focus was elsewhere. When Arella died he had no one. He never realized how much he had loved her until she was gone. He had taken for granted the fact that she had always been there and he had assumed she would always remain so. He had so many other sisters, but he realized that he had loved Arella the most. They had this bond—not like the one Graces and Draco had—but Arella understood him better than anyone else in their family.
He had taken the Mark to save his other sisters, save his parents. But in doing so, in humiliating his father, he also isolated himself. And dealing with the grief and pain alone may have broken him more, but Draco had been there. He still couldn't bear to talk about it, at least not the way he probably should. But Draco had this odd ability to know how to be there. He knew when to be quiet, when to prattle on about something to take him away from certain thoughts. He also had this sense of knowing when and how to comfort without actually coming out and comforting. On days when Graham had felt completely alone Draco somehow reminded him that he wasn't. Whether that be his hand resting on his shoulder as he read something Graham was holding or him unceremoniously dragging Graham through the hall to talk to him about something. He hated to be touched and Draco seemed to avoid touching him as much as possible. But on those days, the really bad ones, Draco always found a way to touch him.
And Draco never judged him. Never looked at him differently when he did say something. He had once in anger mentioned that he didn't understand why Arella had to die, why his sister couldn't be spared. She wasn't a Higgs by blood after all. It was after Graham had said all this that he realized that he was also saying that it was okay his nephews were killed. The realization had horrified him, but Draco had listened and there had been no disgust in his eyes as Graham had said all this. And when the self hatred had begun to sweep through him at the implications of what he said, Draco had just put his hand on his and said "You didn't mean it like that."
For months Graham had become a pillar of strength for Draco to lean on, but Draco had been that pillar first. He knew what Draco felt for him and he could never return that. But he could return his friendship and he planned to do so.
Draco took in a shaking breath and rubbed his eyes angrily. "Do you have a love sonnet for me as well or are you done?"
Graham scoffed. "You wish, Malfoy."
Draco let out a breathy laugh and took a few deep breaths. "I don't want to ruin this moment, but I need to know something." Graham frowned and waited as Draco gathered himself. The blonde twisted his wand a few times in his hands before seeming to steady himself. "Graces lied the other night. I know that," he said slowly. "But you went along with it."
"I'm sorry," Graham said, closing his eyes and actually feeling remorseful.
Draco waived away the apology. "That's not what I'm looking for. I—" Draco stopped and closed his eyes for a moment and willed himself to go on. "Graces has a secret. I know that, but the other night leads me to believe that so do you. And that both of you know what the other one is hiding."
"Am I right?" Draco stared into Graham's eyes, and waited.
A sinking feeling over took Graham and he faltered as a wave of nausea overtook him. He tried his best to not let it get to him and when he went to reply it was clear that Draco knew the answer. "Yes."
Draco seemed to be evaluating him, but even with those gray eyes taking him in he couldn't find it in him to be scared of Draco.
"Do I want to know?" Draco asked.
"No."
"To both of your secrets? Or just yours?"
"Both," Graham whispered.
Draco frowned slightly. "Graces said that she will tell me hers. In time," Draco added. "Will you tell me yours in time?"
"No."
"Why?"
Graham took a breath through his nose. "Because you are safer not knowing."
Draco seemed to be taking this information in. His eyes darting slightly across the floor as though he were reading a list of the implications of what all that could mean.
"Is Graces' secret tied to Thomas'?"
"Thomas has a secret?" Graham scowled.
Draco nodded. "I don't know what it is. He seems scared to tell me."
"I had no idea Thomas was hiding anything," Graham breathed, now trying to remember if the younger boy seemed off.
Draco rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "I don't know what it is. I just know he has one. He's been on edge as of late and I thought maybe it was tied to Graces' secret since he is fearful of my finding out."
Graham shook his head. "It's not."
The older boy suddenly hated himself more for his own weaknesses. He wished he could be the friend Draco deserved. He was keeping things from him just like all the other people in his life.
"Graham," Draco said quietly. "I need to know. How bad is Graces' secret?"
"As bad as mine," Graham said tightly. "Maybe slightly less so. Maybe worse," Graham amended, not really knowing himself which was worse.
Draco ran a hand through his hair. "Can't you just tell me?"
"If Graces is planning on telling you, then I'm going to let her do so. I won't rob her of that."
"She thinks I will hate her once I know."
"You might."
The flash of fear that dashed across Draco's face at his words let Graham know that Draco had been praying that wasn't true, that he had hoped Graces declaration was theatrics.
Draco sat down and Graham pitied him in that moment. He looked devastated just thinking that there could be something Graces had done that was unforgivable. He didn't know how Draco would react once he actually found out.
"I don't think I want to know," Draco whispered.
Graham didn't think there were any more words left to say for the night. So he didn't try and put any together. He just sat there next to his friend and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
I cannot believe we are on chapter 100! Don't forget to follow/ review :D