Special thanks to freedom is the greatest lie, Naruhina1519 , Malfoy Mouth James- MMJ ,RIOSHO, Sam, Natsirt2610, infinateconstellations, Ahabannana , rose antiquus, anand891996, MAKEITHAPPEN, designtechdk, MarvelDweeb, Liyith, Kvandi, Greyhound, Dobby was here, NomNomNomNomYUM, trispectrum, OvErActiVe-InSoMniAc , and guest for the reviews! And CW1991 for the PM/ checking up on me. And always Denarii for editing and ensuring that I don't make up words... I tried to make up a few words in this chapter guys, I definitely need my beta keeping me in check.
Guest- I don't know how many chapters this will be total. I have an outline, but some of those points take like two chapters to get to etc. I'm too long winded to really know.
Also, I recently put this up on Ao3 too. I got a few PMs a while back asking why it wasn't there so now it is :) If any of you are on there stop by and throw me a kudo. I still am in the process of putting all the chapters up. I'm almost done though.
Chapter 102
Neville opened his eyes and for the first time in a long time wasn't overwhelmed with a feeling of dread. Graces was tucked in close to him laying on his chest, both of them still in their school uniform. He didn't remember falling asleep and it was clear from how they were laid on the bed, the sheets still made up, that exhaustion had claimed them before they were ready to sleep themselves. The talk had gone well though. It was long and left them both stripped raw with emotion, but they hadn't fought. At least, not much. Graces had listened and he had listened in turn. It had been hard—incredibly hard—to go through everything that was between them so openly and brazenly, but at the end of it he had this overwhelming sense of relief. They still had an assortment of problems, but all those problems didn't feel like they were a part of his relationship. Those were outside problems: this war, telling their families, her safety, apparently his safety, Graces relationship with Draco, the list goes on and on. But when it came to him and Graces he didn't have the same worries. He gently pulled her closer to him and hoped that this feeling wasn't fleeting, that the talk broke the wall that had prevented them from being functional.
Graces shifted against him and then stilled before looking up at him blurry-eyed and yawning the question of what time it was.
"Early," Neville whispered, taking a look at his watch. "Really early. We have plenty of time to go back to sleep."
"Thank the gods," Graces murmured, her eyes already starting to close as she snuggled closer into his chest.
Neville smiled contentedly. "Hey, why don't we actually go to bed," he suggested. "Get under the covers, dressed to sleep, take our shoes off," he chuckled softly, kicking his shoes against Graces' shoes. "What would your mother say, Miss Malfoy? Shoes on the bed."
Graces giggled and pushed herself up from where she was lying. "My mother wouldn't say a word. She would stare at me disapprovingly from my doorway until I noticed and quickly amended my mistake."
"Do you get scolded often?" he asked curiously, standing up and unbuttoning his shirt, before taking his shoes off.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean... when you're home do you get scolded often? Or are you and Draco perfect children?"
Graces raised an amused brow at the question, before looking down on the side of her skirt to unzip.
"I suppose we got scolded the normal amount. Often as young children, but very little now. Father has very high expectations for behavior, but he left most of the discipline to our mother. She doesn't really scold so much as give you these looks, when she is truly mad though it's far from pleasant."
Neville considered this as Graces walked over to the dressers and began looking through one of the drawers. One hand sifted through her clothes while the other nimbly undid the buttons of her blouse as she considered what she wanted to wear to sleep. He watched as her fingers trailed down, taking in their quick dexterity, how delicate and long her fingers were, nothing like his rough awkward hands. Graces' hands were always soft and even after Herbology her nails never seemed to have any dirt underneath.
"Do you care if I wear one of your shirts?" Graces asked, seeming to not even notice his staring.
Neville shook his head, unable to help himself from smiling at the request. Graces had started doing that often after December. For a while she wore very pretty things to bed, lots of thin silky nightgowns which she loved distracting him in, but when things got harder she wore those less and had seemed to take a liking to his shirts.
"You know you don't have to ask me when you want to wear my shirts," Neville said, climbing into the bed and opening the covers on her side for her to climb in beside him. He laid on his side, his head propped against his hand as he considered something. "In fact if you wanted to steal a few to have in the dorms for bed it's fine with me."
Graces just smiled softly and leaned up to kiss him. Neville leaned more into her, unable to stop himself from deepening this kiss when her bare leg was brushing against his inseam. He could already feel his head clouding and his pulse quickening and he was about to lean away when he felt Graces hands slide up his shirt, the ends of her fingers trailing against his sensitive skin, before she slid one hand down into his boxers.
Neville let out a shudder of a gasp against her lips which seemed to be all the encouragement Graces needed. She gently pulled him so he was more on top of her, her hand continuing on with slow and gentle strokes. It had been so long since she had touched him like this that he was already getting close to the edge. He had half a mind to pin her hand above her head and have her right then and there. But he couldn't get one of their conversations from the night before out of his mind.
"I thought we agreed we wouldn't until it felt right," he breathed, moving away from her.
"It feels right to me," she whispered, her silver eyes looking up at him with the question of if he felt the same.
Neville smiled in answer. "I just want to make sure you want this and you're not doing it to please me like last time."
Graces eyes shifted. "No, it feels right," she said quietly. "Maybe more right than before," she continued on looking up at him and blushing. "I love you, I'm not torn on my feelings or what I want out of this. I know what I want now. I want you and I love you."
"I love you too," Neville said, still in awe that she felt that way regarding him. "You know those two things don't have to coincide. Love and sex."
Graces let out a breathy laugh. "I've really done a number on you havn't I? Jerked you this way and that way regarding us. We're sleeping together, we're not sleeping together. This is casual, I want to figure out what this is, we're together, we're together but I don't talk to you. We—"
"Hey," Neville stopped. "We talked about this. Things were complicated, more complicated than I even was aware. You wanted to figure things out and you needed to really look at your own feelings. That is not jerking me around."
Graces nodded, but still seemed to not take it to heart. "I don't always treat you right, Neville."
"And you apologized profusely for that," Neville reminded, laying back down beside her and holding her close. "And you swore to do better and I swore to open up more. But this Graces is not something I want an apology for because it's not something you should feel bad about."
"I changed my mind a lot," she reminded, her face serene as she laid on the pillow facing him.
Neville shrugged. "Doesn't bother me. Just don't—try—" he amended, "—to not change your mind about loving me."
"I won't change my mind," Graces swore, kissing him tenderly. She lingered near him and kissed him again, parting her lips so he could kiss her fully. "This feels right, Neville," she whispered, her eyes soft and determined.
"Yeah, it does," he agreed, his breath hitching as her lips trailed down his jaw to his neck making him ache for more. She moved closer, her body pressed and fitted against him.
"Neville."
Neville didn't ever think he would get over how his name sounded on her tongue. Her lips curved around it gently as though it were precious. Even when she was cross with him there was a softness to how she said his name. No one said his name the way Graces did, probably because no one felt what she did regarding him. And when she said it like she was saying it now in bed, pleading with desire, it struck him senseless.
She said his name again and the fog in his mind cleared just enough for him to realize she wanted him to do much more than kiss her. He gently ran the flat of his palm up her back so that he was touching bare skin under the shirt she was wearing. She gasped slightly as he moved his hand from her back ever so slowly towards her front, his fingers dancing along the dragon scales he had placed before finding their way to the peaks of her breasts. He savored how she arched her back bringing her hips more into him as he reveled in how she tasted—soft and sweet—and how she responded to every brush of his hand on her skin.
He lifted the shirt just enough for him to run his tongue on the soft pale of skin on her breasts. He grinned against her, gently biting where the skin turned from ivory to coral, before taking the shirt off completely. Her hands were running through his hair as her mouth teased the soft part under his ear, causing his blood to run hot and his fists to ball up into the sheets. "Neville, please," she begged, her body bared to him as she ran her hands down his back.
The thought that this was his life kept echoing in his head: Graces was his, he was hers, and she loved him enough to lose everything to be with him. A few months ago she wouldn't even acknowledge she had feelings for him and they were having quick trysts in closets, barns, and abandoned classrooms and now they were making love in a bed that they had been sharing. She was everything in that moment: pleasure, passion, heat and then so much more. She was Graces. Everything about her, even the difficult parts, made this so much more than just having a tangible woman under him.
She arched up pushing against him, causing him to work longer and faster until the rest of the world faded away and he was just lost in the feel and sound of her. He felt her legs trembling around him and soon after she was coming apart, moaning out her pleasure against his shoulder as he came undone as well.
He fell to the side of her after staring at her flushed face and glistening skin, memorizing the way her hand looked against the pillow as she tried to catch her breath. He found the idea of gods and goddesses ridiculous. He never really felt that there was this higher power looking down on them, but Graces was close, not as an omniscient, absolute being, but as this figure in his life that made him want to do and be better. She was someone that looked out for him, but would allow him to make his mistakes, a wrathful being that could end him should he ever be stupid enough to stray from her. He smiled at the last thought. He would never stray from Graces Malfoy, the thought alone was ridiculous.
"You know one of these days I'm going to be the one to make you beg, Neville Longbottom," Graces said after a while, still not bothering to open her eyes.
"Well, I'm not at all opposed to that," Neville laughed.
"Yeah, you think you're not opposed to it," Graces scoffed, moving closer into him and kissing him chastely. "Just wait til you're the one all hot and bothered."
Neville raised a brow. "You don't think I'm hot and bothered during all that?"
"Are you?"
Neville nodded his head and gave her a look that he was sure told her just how insane he thought she was at that moment.
"So why do you insist on torturing me?" Graces demanded, hitting his chest playfully.
Neville flushed. "I'm not trying to. I, uh, had heard that if you rush foreplay it makes it bad… for the girl."
Graces seemed to take a moment to decipher what he said before giggling. "That is very, very true." She grinned. "But there is no need to be so thorough."
"Well, I—we don't go out on dates. I'm not exactly wooing you beforehand," he pointed out. "I assumed that, well, that I needed to work a bit harder."
"Wooing me? Is that another word you got from your gran? Like deflower?"
"Stop teasing, Malfoy," Neville groaned, playfully shaking her.
Graces laughed and turned off the lights for them to go back to bed. He felt her fingers gently playing with the hairs on his chest and smiled. She hadn't done that in so long, he wondered if this was a sign that things were going to be that much better.
"Neville?" Graces whispered softly.
"Yes?"
"Now would be a good time to thank me."
It took Neville a moment to realize Graces was teasing him again and he answered her jest with an array of tickling that lead to him pinning her beneath him, then kissing her and then not wasting any time with foreplay before they both collapsed in exhaustion.
Neville barely remembered mumbling out "I love you" before sleep overtook him.
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Graces was aware that Neville was watching her. She looked over at him through the mirror as she put in her earring and wondered what it was he wanted to say. She considered asking, but, judging by the anxiety surrounding his demeanor, she decided to let Neville lead in this.
Last night was good, for lack of a better word. Really good. She thought they had a great talk and they definitely had great sex. Twice. She smiled shyly at the thought of it and looked over at Neville again, who caught her smile and asked what she was smiling about.
"Just remembering last night," she answered honestly, looking away.
Neville came up from behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle while he pressed a small kiss against her neck.
"I think we have one more thing to talk about."
Graces raised a brow, but couldn't see Neville's face in the mirror as he was directly behind her and leaning so that his forehead was pressed against the back of her head.
"Okay?" she said, turning around and forcing him to properly look at her.
Neville seemed to be chewing the inside of his mouth as he tried to figure out what exactly he wanted to say. "You are kind of traditional," he pointed out slowly, causing Graces to shift a bit uncomfortably. Traditional always seemed to be a nice word for prude.
"Is there something wrong with that?" she asked, trying to keep her defenses down, but having to fight to not put them up.
"There isn't," Neville said firmly, his hands cupping her face gently. "But, well, erm, I'm not."
Graces flushed and now wondered if there was something she wasn't doing. "I'm not rigid, or incredibly pious, Neville," she said defensively, with a bit more snap than she intended. "If you want to do something different, or want me to do something, you just have to ask me."
Neville blinked in confusion, before turning beat red.
"No, no, that's not what I am saying. I—well, I want you to know that I can try. Try to be more formal," he clarified, still a bit riddled up over what Graces had said earlier. "Just like with letting McGonagall mediate our talking. I can try."
"Okay," Graces said slowly, wondering what Neville was trying to get at.
Neville looked down at her and gently took her hand. "I want you to know I'm serious about you, about us."
"I know you are," she reassured gently, reaching up and gently touching his face.
"Yes, well, still," Neville shrugged. "I was thinking, after you tell Draco and we're out in the open, I could court you. Formally court you, actually, not just court. Properly. The way you would want to be. I want to show you I'm serious. I want to show others too."
Graces blinked a few times, her mind not quite catching up to what was happening. She looked up at Neville and then shifted her eyes back to her thoughts.
"You want to formally court?" Graces repeated, removing her hand from Neville's and walking out of the bathroom to clear her head a bit. "Not just court, formally court?"
"Er, yeah, yes," Neville amended, apparently deciding that the word yeah was not the appropriate word of affirmation when used in this kind of discussion.
"Formal courting is to decide on marriage," Graces pointed out, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Isn't all courting?" Neville laughed.
"If you thought that you wouldn't be offering to formally court."
"I know that when you formally court a girl you are announcing a relationship more serious than ordinary dating. You're publicly announcing you are dating with the intention of being joined."
"Formal courting means that you have intentions of making an offer of joining."
"Eventually, should things go well and the rituals go well, yes. Not that I don't think things will go well, I know they will go well. I mean—"
"Do you know what those rituals are?" Graces asked.
"Uh, well, no," Neville admitted.
"Do you know that formal courting is usually only two to three years, as that's when all the rituals are completed? So if we did a year to plan the joining it would be four years?"
Graces watched as Neville's mouth dropped slightly. "I did not know that."
"So you're offering this and you didn't look into it," Graces murmured, disappointment seeping out of her despite herself.
Neville swallowed. "I don't need to. I love you, I have those intentions. You want this, and I plan to do it. I will learn all I need about it." He paused. "Do you want this? I assumed you would, but—" Neville trailed off.
Graces bit her lip before she let out a small breathy laugh. "I do. I just—I don't think you understand it enough to offer me it."
Neville took a step towards her and she could hardly breath with the intensity behind his eyes. "I love you, and I know what your brother is going to expect."
"You don't have to do this because Draco would expect it. You—"
"Graces," Neville hushed, moving into her and gently cupping her face in his palms. "I want to formally court you. I will look into this more. But I want this, and yes Draco factored into my decision for it to be formal, but I want this. And considering the risks you are taking to be with me you should not have anything less. I want this, Graces. Do you?"
Graces pursed her lips and tried to hide her glee. "When?"
"When what?"
"When do you plan to make the offer?"
The sandy-haired boy's eyes widened considerably. "This will be a long courtship, Graces," Neville stipulated, already realizing that she was going to live up to her Malfoy name of being demanding and impatient for what she wanted.
"How long?"
Neville ran his hand through his hair. "Ten years," Neville shrugged.
"Ten years!" Graces exclaimed. "Ten years!"
"We would be 26, I think that's—"
"People don't formally court for ten years, Neville," Graces stated crossly, moving out of his arms. "If you want to wait ten years then we shouldn't formally court at all. I'll look like a fool."
"Right," Neville nodded, his shoulders tense. "You said the rituals finish in three years, would it be odd for us to do those rituals in four years and have an additional year and a half to plan the joining?"
"We could do four years of the courting and one year to plan the joining. I refuse to be engaged for longer than a year when the courting took so long."
"Okay," Neville whispered, nodding his head. Graces smiled as she listened to him count five years from when they were seventeen, clearly considering what that time frame meant. She also made a mental note that he seemed to be planning to begin formally courting her this summer if he was counting from when they were 17. "We'd be twenty-two. Young, but not insanely so."
"You're not just asking this in the heat of the moment right? This has nothing to do with our night, right?" Graces asked, her silver eyes seeming to pierce through him as though she could see the answer through his skin.
"No, I'm not," Neville swore solemnly. "I've thought about this for a while. I-I fantasized about being able to do this since, Merlin, since the start really. I always wanted to court you properly. And I've wanted to formally court I think since December. It was all just a cauldron dream then," Neville laughed. "I didn't think we ever actually would be able to."
Graces beamed at those words. She felt like she was waking up on Christmas morning, her chest felt light and airy and she had to stop herself from jumping up and down and throwing her arms around Neville. "So I'm it?" she asked tentatively, wanting so badly to hear the confirmation despite everything Neville had already said.
Neville scowled.
"Graces, you're everything."
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Neville checked his watch to make sure he wasn't running late for dinner with McGonagall and Graces as he turned down the hall. He was running a bit later than he would have liked—well, than Graces would have liked—but he had a feeling she wouldn't be too miffed considering he was running late due to waiting for this bouquet of daffodils to arrive. He looked at the arrangement again and smiled. Daffodils were a symbol of new beginnings and he honestly believed that this was a new beginning with Graces. He doubted she would understand the meaning behind the flowers, but he was happy at the thought that she would like them all the same.
"Are those for me?"
Neville jumped and Graces practically skipped over to him from where she seemed to have been waiting in the corridor.
"Were you waiting for me?"
Graces shrugged. "I like talking to you alone."
Neville hummed a reply, but didn't give her the flowers. "You can have these when we're not in such a public area," he stipulated, placing the flowers into his cloak.
Graces wrinkled her nose at him, but didn't argue. She did however fall into step with him, clearly deciding that they would walk together to dinner.
"Did you get the packages I sent you?"
"Oh you mean the TWENTY-FOUR books on pureblood history, traditions, etiquette, courting and joining rituals?"
Graces bit her lip, but didn't seem at all abashed by how ridiculous that had been. "You want to formally court, I think that it would be wise for you to read up on it."
"We are not formally courting until summer, Graces," Neville reminded.
"Summer isn't that far away, Longbottom. You need to take this seriously and be prepared."
Neville shook his head. "I am; I will."
"I will be really upset if I have to guide you through all this. You offered it; you should know."
"I will read up as much as I can, but I don't think this needs to be all-consuming," Neville promised. "I would like this to be a very small part of our relationship, I don't want things changing or us becoming so formal. We will do the rituals and whatever has to be done, but I am not going to become like, well, you know."
Graces stopped her walking and frowned. "I don't know."
Neville sighed and tried to think of how to say this without offending Graces. "I'm not going to be like the purebloods in your circle. I don't want to be formal, or act a certain way because it's expected. This is me. I will learn and we will formally court, but even with that I need some wiggle room to be myself. And I don't want us becoming like that. I like us, playful and us. Teenagers."
Graces seemed to be considering this. Neville watched as her gray eyes seemed to be far away as she thought about what all that meant, before looking up at him and smiling. "I agree. I don't think I would like you as much if you acted like Graham or any of the other boys in Slytherin."
"Ah, so you like the Gryffindor boys?" Neville teased, bumping into her playfully.
"I like you," Graces stipulated. "You are the expectation."
"Just admit it, Malfoy, you have a thing for Gryffindor boys."
"I have a thing for one Gryffindor boy," Graces maintained. "I haven't dated, or had interest in any others."
Neville thought to reply, but then stopped himself. "Yeah, let's keep it that way."
Graces bit her lip and he could tell before she even opened her mouth that she was going to tease him more. "I could still look around, you know. Until we are formally courting I am free to accept other dates. Others are free to ask me on dates as well."
Neville hummed a reply. "Too bad that in a broom closet at The Three Broomsticks you agreed to an exclusive relationship."
"It wasn't a formal agreement," Graces shrugged.
Neville shook his head. "Prat."
Graces just smiled at the title.
"So, er, there's quite a few outfits needed for each ritual in the courting. Do you think you could convince your godmother to make my dresses?" she asked, giving him a hopeful glance. "Ones designed only for me."
"I think I can arrange that," Neville nodded, smiling ear to ear.
"She may refuse. She hates Malfoys."
"I will talk to her," Neville promised, still smiling at the thought of Graces in pretty robes to court with him. He wondered how exactly those robes would look. He imagined no matter the design she would look overwhelmingly beautiful.
"I realize her clothes are very expensive," Graces continued, her right hand playing with his mother's ring. "I, er, was thinking I could take money out of my vault now, that way if I get disowned it won't be an issue. I was—"
"I don't think you need to worry yourself regarding any of that now," Neville said gently.
"Maybe Draco will accept us," she whispered, not seeming to take his words to heart, playing with her ring as her eyes turned downcast. "Then money won't be an issue at all. Not with my dowry and my vaults."
Neville let out a slow breath and was thinking about having the discussion of financials with Graces now, not wanting to really accept any dowry, but Graces continued on.
"You would do the three months of separation, right? To get to know Draco? So he can get to know you? Maybe even my mum," she added wishfully.
"Yes," Neville nodded. "Absolutely."
"Neville," Graces murmured, her voice so heavy he stopped. "Draco will be difficult. Really difficult."
"Okay."
"You will have to be patient and better than he is being to you, regardless of what he says or does."
"I can do that," Neville promised.
"I need you to love Draco," Graces whispered, her face all serious. "Even if—even if he doesn't accept us. Even if all the wrongs he's done against you are never made right. I need you to just forgive him and love him."
He moved a piece of her hair behind her ear and for the first time missed it when it was long. He used to love playing with it absently when it laid against her back. He took a moment to think about what kind of love Graces would expect him to hold for Draco and then thought of everything Draco was doing for her. He remembered their fight in October, their conversation after he hit Harry, there was so much history between the two of them and then this one link that brought them together. He looked at Graces and kissed her forehead.
"It's done," he swore.
"I know I've asked similar things of this before regarding Draco and—"
"Graces, you ask me as many times as you need to ask me."
Graces nodded and wiped away a small tear.
"How are things with you two?"
Graces swallowed. "I can't seem to make things better between us. Conversation is difficult to say the least." She sniffed. "It's like we have this barrier between us and there's no getting past it." Neville pulled her close to him as her shoulders sagged. "I guess that's not true," she said tightly. "I know what the barrier is. I need to tell him."
"You do."
"I'm not ready, Neville."
"I know, that's okay," he promised, leaning down so his head rested on hers.
Graces was silent for a long while. "You need family to formally court."
Neville closed his eyes. He did not know that, but it made sense considering how involved they are supposed to be in the courting process. He thought of the pages of the books he skimmed and there was usually some aspect of family in it. He wondered idly if Graces was so excited for the idea of them formally courting for the openness, but also for the hope that her brother would be involved.
"I want to do whatever you want to do," Neville reminded. "If you want to formally court we should formally court. If you want to just date, we can just date. If you want to court, but not formally, we can do that."
"And if I want to elope immediately?" Graces asked, her voice teasing.
"Er, we will have a very very long discussion on that," Neville said nervously. "I will not be as for that. I am not ready for that."
"I want to formally court," Graces said, looking up at him and putting his worry on the matter to rest. "There's nothing grand in eloping and I really want the pretty dresses and all the different traditions and rituals. But, I don't know if I want to without Draco. I feel like it would be—I don't know. It would hurt to have the absence of my family. Each ritual would be a reminder that I was alone."
"You are not alone, Graces," Neville reminded. "But I really don't think this will be an issue. I believe wholeheartedly that Draco will accept us. I don't think he will like me, but I am confident he will not disown you. He will accept us because he won't lose you."
Graces nodded unsurly. "Come on," she sighed, "We're late to dinner."
Neville walked beside her and left her alone with her thoughts. When they entered McGonagall's chambers, not bothering to knock, he handed her the daffodils. He watched as she smiled softly at them, gently brushing the yellow petals with the tips of her fingers.
"Narcissus," she murmured, looking up at him. Neville only then realized that of course Graces would see them and immediately think of their Latin name and thus her mother.
"Or daffodils," he corrected shyly.
"Same thing," Graces laughed.
"All daffodils are members of the genus Narcissus, but people don't tend to associate them with their genus. I thought you would see them and think of daffodils, which is the common garden term."
Graces was smiling at him in that way that told him she found whatever he was doing to be very cute. "Well, I'm not very well versed in flowers, Professor. So do tell, what do daffodils mean? Clearly there is meaning in these if you care so much about how I perceive them."
Neville flushed and now felt very silly.
"New beginnings," McGonagall broke in, gesturing for both of them to take a seat to eat. "Daffodils typically mean new beginnings."
Neville didn't know why he was so embarrassed for McGonagall to know about his meaning in the flowers, but he was. He avoided her all-too-knowing eyes as he took his seat. He felt exposed with her there, silly even when he did things romantic. Though watching Graces place the flowers tenderly down by her plate made it worth it. She glanced up at him coyly, before focusing her attention on McGonagall.
"Would you like a vase, Graces?" McGonagall asked, passing her a plate of chicken, potatoes, corn and peas.
"No, I actually enjoy pressing the flowers in books. If a character dies or if it's a part I particularly enjoyed I press a flower in that section."
"I didn't know that," Neville said, shocked that he hadn't noticed such rituals.
"Well, I haven't really been reading much lately," Graces pointed out, moving some peas around with her fork.
"What was the last book you read?" McGonagall asked curiously.
Graces flushed slightly. "Hamlet."
"Hamlet," the older woman repeated, her brows high above her spectacles.
"Graces likes Shakespeare," Neville said, aiding in the conversation since Graces was so uncomfortable. "She's read Hamlet before, but she read it again with me."
"What other things of his have you read?" the older woman asked.
"Erm, Taming of the Shrew, Neville read that one for me as well, sonnets, A Midsummers Night's Dream, Macbeth, and erm," Graces chewed the inside of her lip as she tried to remember more.
"Romeo and Juliet?"
"Don't get her started on Romeo and Juliet," Neville said shaking his head. "She hates them. Frankly I think she's happy they died in the end."
"I wasn't rooting for them to die, Neville," Graces scoffed. "I just wasn't sad that they did."
"You didn't want the couple separated by family hate to end up together and live happily ever after?" McGonagall said flatly.
Graces blinked and her mouth popped open slightly. "Neville and I are not Romeo and Juliet."
"Oh Merlin," Neville cursed under his breath.
"We're not!" Graces snapped, glaring over at him.
"I didn't say we were," Neville nodded.
"Romeo just wanted to get laid. He literally went from trying to get into one girl's knickers before she became a nun to trying to get into Juliet's knickers. Neville here wasn't trying to get into anyones knickers."
"That may be," McGonagall placated. "But—"
'I'm just going to sink into this chair and pray I disappear," Neville muttered.
"—don't you think there is something to relate to in that these were two people who wanted to be together and the only thing separating them from one another was their families' feud?"
"They just wanted to have sex," Graces snorted. "They never even spoke to each other! Neville and I wanting to be together is based on us, not just shagging. We didn't run off and get secretly married so that we could sleep together."
Neville groaned and buried his face in his hands.
"We also did not declare undying love for one another after a few nights! Neville didn't tell me he loved me for months. And, Neville did not kill my cousin."
"I think it could still be argued that blood has been spilled between your families," McGonagall pointed out.
"We're not the same," Graces said stubbornly. "Neville, tell her we're not the same."
"We're not the same," Neville repeated, in a "yes, dear" sort of way.
"Neville! With some enthusiasm." Neville sighed and looked wordlessly over at Graces. "You think we're the same?" Graces asked deflated.
"I think there are some similarities," Neville said delicately. "Just because there are similarities doesn't mean we're going to be a tragedy, Graces. I'm not going to stab myself in the gut over you."
Graces looked away, but didn't say anything more on the matter. Neville frowned slightly at the silence and then cursed himself silently as he realized Graces had in fact stabbed herself in the gut over him.
"I—I didn't—" Neville sighed, at a loss for words.
"Graces," McGonagall murmured gently, drawing the blonde's attention away from her potato pea mountain. "I know that you and Neville truly love one another. Just because I said you two were similar, doesn't mean that I think you the same. And I would not allow you two to end up with a fate like them. We will figure things out."
Graces nodded and licked her bottom lip. "Did Dumbledore say anything more about what his plan was? I mean after I tell Draco? Did he say anything at all about what he will do for us?"
McGonagall gave a tight smile and she shook her head. "I will make sure that you both are safe," she swore.
Graces eyes shifted slightly. "Is there a plan? There is something of a plan, correct?"
"There are things the Headmaster and I are talking about. We each have ideas on what we think should be the next step once you talk with Draco."
"Such as?" Graces prodded.
Neville too was curious what these next steps were. He understood the focus now being on making Graces well and on her telling Draco, but he also understood Graces would want to tell Draco that he had another choice as well. Another path.
"Well, I've decided that should Draco not accept your relationship with Neville and should you be disowned that I will take you as my ward.
Neville and Graces eyes both widened at this.
"Your ward?" the both repeated.
"Yes."
Graces looked over at Neville from across the table at a loss for words.
"Is that a problem?" McGonagall asked, slowly looking between them.
"We just, er,well—" Neville stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "We had planned for Graces to be with me."
McGonagall seemed to be holding back an initial reaction which left Neville and Graces sitting uncomfortably in the silence of her self control.
"I do not think that you and Graces living together would be appropriate for many reasons," she said sternly. "A main reason being that you both are underage. Another reason being I doubt Augusta would agree to this."
"Well, we wouldn't be living with my gran." Neville flushed.
"We both come of age in the summer too, so we won't be underage," Graces added.
"Coming of age does not make you grown," McGonagall said flatly. "Frankly I see no difference between two sixteen year olds playing house and two seventeen year olds. No, Graces, you will live with me."
"I will be seventeen in June," Graces reminded her.
"The fact you think turning seventeen means such a great deal shows how very, very young you are. Do you think the seventh years at this school are living on their own? That they are equipped for a life with no parents tending to them?"
"I can't be your ward," Graces breathed. "I can't be Minerva McGonagall's ward. I'm a Malfoy and a Slytherin," Graces stressed.
"Well, Slytherin you may be, but you will be staying in the Gryffindor tower."
"I will what!?"
"Graces, I think we both can agree it would be difficult for you to stay in the Slytherin dungeons."
"I would rather die."
"Graces," Neville reprimanded.
"I would," Graces maintained.
"It could be nice," Neville pointed out. "We could see each other all the time. We could relax in the common room and—"
"Neville, I love you, but you need to not talk anymore."
"Come on, it wouldn't be bad at all and you would be safe."
Graces narrowed her eyes. "Oh, yes, because living in the same tower as Harry Potter is completely safe. Nothing terrible could possibly happen there and I will completely be out of the social line of fire sharing a dorm with Hermione Granger, Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil."
"Graces," McGonagall began patiently. "Sleeping in the Gryffindor dorms does not make you any less of who you are, but it can offer you better comfort."
"I don't want comfort; I'll endure."
For the rest of dinner Neville and McGonagall tried to convince Graces that staying in the Gryffindor tower would be better than staying in her own house dormitory, but Graces seemed to just find the whole idea to be ridiculous. Even when McGonagall insisted it would only be sleeping that any points she earned or lost would still go to Slytherin. Towards the end she just shook her head and wouldn't even dignify the points they were making with a response. She did however finish her plate of food and even ate dessert when McGonagall brought out a tart.
As they were leaving McGonagall's chambers she gently took his arm in hers, resting her head against his arm and cloak as she walked beside him. Neville wasn't sure if this habit of hers should be maintained. She seemed to use this hall as a way for them to be alone. After dinner she talked to him in it, held his hand, kissed him. The hall was secluded, but only because it was where McGonagall's chambers were, but what if another student went looking for her? Or another professor? He battled these thoughts as he allowed her to hold him.
"People are going to judge us once we're public," she murmured after a moment.
Neville frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Once people know about us," she clarified. "People are going to talk about us, everyone is going to have an opinion."
Neville shrugged. "Let them talk."
"There will be more than just ordinary gossip, Neville," Graces persisted. "I wouldn't be at all surprised if we ended up in the papers with some horrible tabloid piece about us from Rita Skeeter that I guarantee the whole school will read."
"Let them read."
Graces snuggled closer and tightened her arm around his. "People are not going to want you with me," she whispered tightly, he looked down at her, but the blonde was purposely avoiding his gaze. "They're going to point out my temperament, and also that you shouldn't be with a Malfoy, with a girl from a family that—"
"I don't give a damn what people who don't know me think is best for me," Neville snorted. "Even my friends don't know me well enough to know what I need or want in a relationship."
A heavy silence fell around them and Neville could tell by how Graces was clutching him and walking slower she had something else to say. "Your family may say things too, Neville."
"Yeah," he nodded. "They may very well, but I really don't care what they say."
"Are you going to feel that way when your gran sends you a howler?"
"If my gran sends me a howler and says one thing about you I will send her one back."
Graces giggled. "No you wouldn't."
"I would."
"You're not really the yelling type, Neville," Graces laughed airily.
"Yeah, well, I'm also not the type to punch Harry Potter," he pointed out. "I make exceptions for you."
"I guess you're also not the illicit affairs type either, another exception you've made for me," she smiled.
"Oh, I was always that type," Neville said seriously, turning her so she was looking up at him. "It's the quiet ones, you gotta watch out for those quiet blokes. It was always part of my plan to be sneaking around the castle with you. I have a thing for bad girls."
"Am I a bad girl?" Graces asked, raising her brow.
"You stabbed me," Neville reminded her flatly. "I'd hardly call you angelic."
Graces bit her lip to hide her smile. Neville really could be charming, she wondered if any other girl had ever experienced Neville Longbottom's charm. If anyone ever would. He wanted to formally court, so that would make this side of him hers forever. He gently tilted her chin up and she really did swoon when his lips brushed against hers.
"I'll be sure to read a few chapters of one of those books tonight," he promised, his lips still close enough to hers that she could easily kiss him again. "Good night, Malfoy."
"Good night, Longbottom," she grinned.
She was only a few steps before Neville called out to her again.
"Did you mean what you said earlier this morning?"
Graces laughed. "You're going to have to be more specific than that."
"About if I wanted something I would just have to ask."
She shrugged playfully. "Is there something you want, Mr Longbottom?"
"I want lots of things," Neville smirked. She suddenly saw exactly what Harry meant when he had informed her Neville had started to smirk like her.
"Anything specific?" Graces asked innocently, walking back to him and trailing her fingers up his chest until her hands rested on his shoulders.
Neville bowed his head in the other direction from hers and she giggled as he seemed to turn five different shades of red. "Nope, nope this is probably the end of me trying to be—I don't know," he laughed, covering his face and then rubbing his fingers through his hair. Graces laughed with him and loved him all the more. "You're much better at this than I am," Neville chuckled. "I try and then you just unravel me. If you didn't come over I probably could have pulled it off."
"Trust me, Neville, you unravel me plenty," she whispered. "I'm unraveling now," she admitted.
Neville seemed pleased with this answer. He had a pleasantly surprised expression to him with a small bit of pride mixed in.
"And I did mean what I said this morning," she added, not able to bring herself to look up at him. Neville hummed a reply and held her closer.
"This is the worst part of my day," he admitted softly. "I know I should let you go when we say goodbye, not have these moments with you, but as soon as we say our goodbyes I get the same sick feeling in my stomach as I got my first year away from home."
"You feel homesick when I'm away?"
"Yeah, I do," he admitted quietly. "More reason for you to consider being in Gryffindor. Think of the heartache you could save me every night."
Graces hid her grin against Neville's chest. Of all the arguments to make her switch dorms, this was the one that actually made her want to. She kissed Neville softly and whispered a goodnight. She left practically walking on air. Everything seemed possible in that moment and she couldn't stop smiling all the way to the dungeons. It was ridiculous and right all at once. She knew she had to still her heart before seeing Draco or there would be no doubt in his head she was in love and from there he could figure out with who very quickly. But for now she smiled, she smiled until she entered the Slytherin common room and found Thomas waiting for her eyes red from hours of past fallen tears.
I want to thank all of you who review and follow etc. It means the world to me, guys. I don't think I would have kept up writing like this if not for your encouragement. This is such a long fic and I am in awe of how much you all stick around for me and keep reading after so long. I was on this forum and I was reading about how so many other fic writers feel so discouraged in their writing because no one ever reviews for them and it made me really love how much you guys are here for me.