So sorry it's been a while guys. Husband has been on nights for two months and the two year old is potty training. BUT he is off nights now for a while! Thank you to everyone for the wonderful reviews, they are so encouraging :D And of course a big thank you to Denarri for editing.

Special thanks to TheWanderingViolet, RIOSHO, Sam, Malfoy Mouth James- MMJ, Micah Yeager, Daphne98, U, ihatecarbonara, Aruaniu, amazinggurl, RichesToDitches, Janeth16, elk99, Naruhina1519, Minim, Guest, RedKitsune2016, Bharm, and fishywishygirl for the reviews !

Chapter 106

Thomas walked slowly through the halls of the house Graces had taken him to. Not because he was taking extra time to inspect the home he was to send what remained of his family to, but because he was slowly gathering his thoughts regarding the girl presenting it to him. She was now in so many ways a stranger to him. Draco had said so, but for a long time he didn't want to believe that Graces had drifted away from them. How could it be that this person who had been the beating heart of their makeshift family didn't belong to it anymore.

"I know it isn't grand," Graces continued apologetically. "But it's safe. The world can think your family is at the manor and they will in reality be tucked away here."

Here. He didn't even know where here was. They were port keyed directly outside the house. He didn't even know if he was in the same country. When he asked about the portkeys, Graces had only said they were not registered and perfectly safe. Another oddity, he doubted Graces would have bribed a Ministry official, too much risk. Any favors would have been from dark wizards or witches, families that, if they thought the Malfoys were getting portkeys, would have instantly believed them to be betraying He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And if they weren't Dark, if they were neutral, then coin could easily make for a betrayal.

He wrinkled his nose at an obnoxiously purple room at the end of the hall. He turned to find a small, embarrassed smile ghosting over Graces face, before she met his eyes and turned the smile tight and nervous.

"Good thing there are other rooms," she said with a small, brittle laugh, nervously twisting her hands.

He truly didn't know this creature before him. He used to see Graces as so regal. In many ways she was so far above the rest of them in bearing that at times she didn't feel real. When he was younger he used to feel so special that he was one of the very few she would smile down at. He could never have imagined her like this: unsure, scared, nervous and insecure. Graces Malfoy didn't twist her hands nervously, she stood serenely, her eyes cool and calculating. He thought of how she stood before being tortured, but she twists her hands now?

He swallowed and closed his eyes. Formulating his next words in his head before he dared say them. He moved his lips and breathed the first word before actually beginning.

"Wh-whose house is th-this?"

Graces eyes turned downward.

"You couldn't use a M-m-mmmalfoy property, cause Draco would b-be tuned in to the wards, and Draco d-d-doesn't know of any of this. G-Graham would never have agreed. You couldn't have b-b-bought the property without d-drawing attention. So, wh-whose home am I in?"

"A friend's," Graces said delicately.

"This is m-my family. I will not r-risk their lives. I have to kn-know who I am trusting with what is l-left of my family, Graces."

"I swear, Thomas, this person would never betray you, would never betray me. You are safer here than anywhere else."

Thomas shook his head and turned away. He surveyed the walls, the floors, the furniture in the home. Everything was old, ordinary, nothing of taste or value, mostly functional. They weren't rich. They weren't rich, Dark, Neutral. Light... they had to be Light. Allowing a muggle to live in their home was something only a light family would agree to. He looked back at Graces and swallowed the tightness in his throat.

"It's Neville L-Longbottom's," he whispered as though the name were a curse. In some ways it felt as though it were. He glared at Graces, unable to hide his own hurt and betrayal. She blinked at him, but just shook her head, as though she could change what they both knew to be true, as if she could find a way to make Thomas move away from his realization.

"That's ridiculous, Thomas."

No, it wasn't. It was exceptionally obvious now that he thought about it all. Him and Graces fighting in the halls. Him insisting on being by her side when she was hurt. His silence in protecting her and Draco. He took that vow without a second thought. The tutoring, the game that he dressed in their colors, there was so much. Even him asking her out the way he did. He wanted to scream and cry all at once.

"How c-could you?" he demanded quietly, staring at her.

"I didn't."

"I am s-standing in Neville L-Longbottom's house, d-d-don't tell me you didn't!" Thomas roared.

Graces jolted at his anger and for a moment looked as though she would try to hold firm on her lies. He glared at her challenging her to try it, to lie to his face again.

"I deserve the t-truth," he proclaimed, taking a step forward. "Do not insult me with another l-lie. How c-could you do this?"

"I love him," Graces said, her face set determinedly, one tear betraying her and cascading down to her chin.

"More than D-Draco? More than your m-mother? More than m-me?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"It's a different kind of love," Graces said. "I couldn't—I tried, Thomas. I did. I tried so many times to keep away from him, but I couldn't."

Thomas couldn't even take a breath as he tried to hide the signs of his heart openly breaking. Of all the things, he never would have thought she would do this. Not to him, not to Draco. She could kill them all with this kind of stupidity. Was one person worth all their lives? Was Neville Longbottom worth the carnage that would come?

"Say something," Graces begged tightly.

Thomas closed his eyes and tried to swallow the lump in his throat, he felt suffocated by the weight of what she had put on him. "Are you g—Are you going to tell Draco? Or run away, l-leaving us in the wr-wreckage? How is this g-going to play out, Graces?"

"I'm not going to run away," Graces whispered. "I will tell Draco I just—"

"When?" Thomas demanded.

"Soon."

"And what then?" Thomas demanded. "Do you think we c-can just w-walk away? Do you think that my f-family, or your f-family, will be able to survive this? That you two c-can declare you're in l-love and everyone will b-be s-safe? Even if Draco accepts this you have p-put a death s-sentence on all of us!"

Graces flinched at his words. "Neville and I would not do anything to put your lives at risk," Graces stated, her words calm and careful. "We love each other, but we will not put you in danger. We are going to figure out what to do, but we will not allow anyone to be hurt. We—"

"You b-being together puts our lives at risk! N-Not to m-mention what it will do to Draco," he added savagely. "This will destroy him!"

"He is doing everything in his p-p-power to save you, he has sold his s-soul just for you to have a chance at b-being safe! He doesn't s-sleep, or eat all he does—"

"You think I don't know all this?"

"You m-must n-not because you have abandoned him!"

"I have not!"

"You have!" Thomas cried. "You are ch-choosing N-Neville L-Longbottom over him. You have ch-chosen to leave him alone, to leave him to d-die alone. He has for months wanted you and n-needed you and you have been f-f-falling in love with N-Neville b-b-bloody L-Longbottom!"

"Did you enjoy your f-f-fairytale? Did you enjoy f-f-falling in love while your b-brother was left in mmm-misery?" Thomas asked scathingly.

"You honestly think this was a fairytale for me?" Graces asked, aghast. "Neville was just survival. In the beginning he was—" Graces shook her head. "He was an escape. And then I fought tooth and nail for him to be nothing. I hurt him countless times, I hurt myself countless times, in order to not hurt Draco."

"I went against every feeling, every instinct. I pushed him away time and time again. I gave him every reason to leave. But he didn't," she choked. "He couldn't, just like I couldn't keep away. We love each other and it is beyond us. We are powerless to it. And I could lie and say I would have chosen anyone over Neville, for a long time I even told myself that, but I can't. I want Neville, I choose Neville. At the end of the day I love him and I want to be with him. I need to be with him or I will live the rest of my miserable life with such regret that it wouldn't be worth living."

"You would have Draco," Thomas murmured in disbelief.

"You're telling me to hurt the man I love and myself rather than ask my brother to love me and accept us." Graces took a shaking breath. "You're asking me to live a lie."

"I am asking you to s-stop what you are doing with L-Longbottom."

Graces bit her lip and shook her head morose. "What's so wrong with Neville Longbottom?"

"He's a b-b-blood traitor, he p-put your f-f-father in jail, he is on the opposite side of th-this war than your f-family, and, well, he's b-beneath you. Listing him as an average s-skilled wizard is being k-kind."

"I don't care that he's a blood traitor. I don't even know how much weight I give that nonsense anymore. I think I still enjoy the privilege of being pure, but that doesn't mean I think it's correct," Graces sniffed. "I despise the side of the war we are on. And I know that you do too," she seethed. "How could you not? He slaughtered your family. He—"

"We're n-not talking about my f-family," Thomas said firmly. "We are discussing yours and how the b-bloke you are s-sleeping with has c-caused your family n-nothing but p-pain."

"My family caused its own pain," Graces snapped. "My father chose wrong and we are paying for it. All Neville did was the right thing."

"I am in love with a kind, sweet—" Graces gestured to the house they were standing in. "—generous man. Who would do anything to keep me and mine safe. Who, when faced with difficult decisions, chooses the right thing, even if it is a high cost to him. I am in love with a man that would keep my secrets in order to protect the people I love. Who chooses kindness over violence. And I think him very skilled," Graces added, her voice laced with a mixture of adoration and pride.

"What more could I ask for? The qualities you listed, do you want that for me, Thomas? A Death Eater? Someone my father would accept, bear in mind my father didn't bat an eye at torturing a fifteen year old boy. Someone who cares about blood purity, because the someone that cared about that would kill John, with no second thought," Graces reminded. "Neville may not be the best at displaying his skills, but he has plenty. Enough to make me happy."

"This isn't you," Thomas started shaking his head. "You should n-never—"

"I don't know who I am, Thomas," Graces declared tightly. "I am not real most of the time," she said slowly, frowning at the thought. "I feel alive with Neville, I feel like a real person and not a shadow walking among the living."

"My life, the one before, before—I don't even know the event—it's not my life anymore. It's not where I belong and I can't make myself into the person I was before. Nevermore. I will nevermore be that girl," she murmured, her mind going to some memory or thought.

Her grey eyes met his after a few moments and he knew it to be true. She was gone, the girl he knew all those years, she was not lost, she was gone. And now he faced a stranger that wore her skin, that held her memories, who fought her way out of some abyss that he didn't know about to stand before him now. She was Graces and she wasn't Graces.

"What are you going to do?" she asked calmly, taking a seat on an old sofa.

He wanted to hate her. To wash his hands of her and pretend that she never meant anything to him. He wanted to tell Draco and Graham and move on from this. But he couldn't get the image of her blood out of his mind or of her screams when she was tortured for him. She had guarded him from the moment he entered Hogwarts. How could he turn his back to her now? A thought resounded in his mind that maybe he did this to her, maybe he broke her.

"N-Nothing," he whispered, bending his head down to hide his own tears. "I love you."

"I love you. I could never b-betray you. I only have my life b-because of you. You saved my life and it is in your p-power to take it away," he murmured solemnly.

"Thomas—"

"We lost you," Thomas whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking each breath with a renewed pain. "We lost you and we were b-blind to what was happening! We knew… we knew you weren't right. Gods," he cursed, unable to believe how much this was all hurting.

"Thomas, please."

"You were n-never right after. You w-weren't. You were d-different, you were. I s-saw it, Draco saw it and even Graham s-saw it and we just w-wanted to b-believe that you were okay, that you would come b-back and—"

"Stop."

Graces looked away tearfully. He watched as her hand covered her mouth to hold in her sobs and he wished he wasn't so helpless. He wished that he could find what it was inside her and heal it, bring her back from this ghost of a girl she was now. She had died and then they had been forced to watch her die again. He didn't know her anymore and in some ways he felt as though he had betrayed her. She had slipped away from all of them.

"This is no one's fault. This is love and this love made me strong in times I needed strength. It sheltered me when I couldn't deal with the world around me. It held me when I pushed everything and everyone good away. And when I was broken, it forged something new of the pieces, something better," she murmured. "I don't want to be who I was before. I am grateful for who I am now, because who I am now is going to help your family. John included," she said pointedly. "The girl I was before would have damned him and saved you and Octavian."

Thomas didn't know what to say or think. This wasn't the world they lived in. Graces and Neville could not be together. It wasn't safe. He thought of how many lives would be put at risk for this and he couldn't justify it. And yet, he also didn't want to deny her this.

"Draco loves you so m-much. We all d-do," he said slowly. "You could die for this, Graces. We all could. You say N-Neville and you wouldn't do anything unless you could make us all s-safe, b-but I suspect you have no real c-concrete plan for that."

"We are still figuring things out," Graces admitted. "But Neville has made it very clear that he is fine with not being public, for as long as that is needed."

"P-People will f-find out," Thomas said warily. "And when the wrong p-person f-finds out—"

Graces bit her lip. "When the wrong person finds out your family will already be here and you will just have to portkey to them. I will make similar arrangements for Draco."

"And you?"

"I know what bed I've chosen, I'm happy to lie in it."

"You're willing to die for N-Neville L-Longbottom?"

"I am willing to die for the chance to live a happy life with Neville. A life where I did the right things and not the things that were easy."

"Draco will—"

"Neville believes that Draco will accept us."

"Do you b-believe that?"

Graces didn't answer.

"I don't want him to kn-know I know," Thomas stated firmly. "I don't want to have to talk to him or thank him for this."

"Neville and I don't keep secrets," Graces said quietly.

"No, you just keep s-secrets from everyone else you love."

"You don't have to talk to him or thank him. He wouldn't want the latter anyways," Graces grumbled tiredly.

"I want—" Thomas paused and regained his momentum. "I want to go b-back to Hogwarts," he demanded.

"Do you agree to this? To this house? The porkeys?"

"Yes."

"And Neville being your secret keeper."

Thomas scowled in disbelief.

"He insists. It's his home, his responsibility and he wants to. He believes it is safest for everyone. No one would suspect him."

"I don't even kn-know him. How can I trust him to be my f-f-family's secret keeper when I don't kn-know him."

"You know his character," Graces reminded. "You know that Neville Longbottom will do what is right."

"Fine."

"Thomas," Graces whispered, moving forward to touch his hand.

"Can we leave n-now?" Thomas snapped. "I've agreed to everything. I'll keep your secrets and I'll move my f-family tonight."

"Thomas, please," Graces begged. "We can talk more, we can—"

"What is th-there to talk about? You have c-c-clearly made your decision and I will not stand in the way or endanger you in your choices. You want N-Neville? F-Fine, but that does n-not mean I have to give my b-blessing or agree."

"I just—I want you to understand."

Thomas wondered how far away from reality Graces was. She had disappeared from them all for so long, but had she wrapped herself up so much in Neville that she truly couldn't see reality. Did she not realize who he was talking to? His family was gone. He was left alone with a child he didn't want and a Great Aunt who was a stranger. She had a family. Her brother was right there, she had the ability to hold him, touch him, talk to him and tell him daily that she loved him and she was going to risk his life, her family's life, for one person.

"I don't need to understand."

"Thomas—"

"I don't want to hurt you," he swore quietly. "I don't, and I f-fear that this conversation will only hurt you and it will continue to p-pain me. I will keep your secrets. I will trust my f-family to be safe here. And th-though I disapprove, I still love you. Do n-not ask me more. I don't want to understand, b-because in some ways that feels like I condone this. Don't ask me to do such a thing to Draco."

They left in silence. Graces couldn't think of anything to say and it was clear Thomas did not want to hear more anyways. When they arrived back at the castle he walked away, each stride deliberate in bringing space between the two of them. She didn't follow him. She stood where she was, allowing him the space. He didn't understand and she realized that no one could possibly understand. She barely understood, so how could she string words together that would speak to him?

The idea of Draco accepting this, accepting her now felt impossible. Her secrets, her love, would they be the things to ruin her? Was this all a mistake? Doubt began to slowly poison her mind. Draco was her blood; he was family. Was choosing Neville turning against herself? She looked at herself the way Thomas saw her and felt sick.

Young, stupid, foolishly in love for the first time and willing to throw away everything. Her life, her family, sacrificing everyone and everything for one person. She had no plan, she was acting blindly on feeling and feeling alone.

"Graces?"

Graces looked up from the ground to find Draco standing before her. They stood there outside the castle and her heart raced with worry and guilt. Did Thomas tell him?

"Yes," she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"You left the castle."

Graces blinked wildy. How did he know that? Thomas told. He had to have told, in the first few moments of being back he must have ran to Draco and—

"You're traced," Draco reminded. "You allowed me to put a trace charm on you. You've left before too," he sighed. "Where did you go?"

Graces opened her mouth and then closed it. On Valentine's day, he knew she had left Valentine's day as well. He had never said anything about it.

"The safe house."

"Both days?" Draco inquired, his face not betraying any of his thoughts.

Graces shook her head. "Just today."

Draco's gray eyes flickered slightly with something, but Graces didn't know what. What she did know was that he was standing before her and for many reasons the effect was similar to their mother. There was a calm composure to him, as though he were trying to meet with her as equals, but still held the authority.

"Your secret, is it—"

"I'm not ready," Graces said quickly, shaking her head and retreating a few steps back.

Draco's lips pressed together in a thin line. "Thomas is not appropriate, for a number of reasons. Family standing aside, you have too much power in that relationship for it to ever be okay. I realize the age difference now won't be significant years from now, but the dynamic will never be equal. Money, power, social status, family, all those things will contribute to him being oppressed under you. It's almost predatory."

"Thomas?" she repeated.

"I am assuming your secret is that you and Thomas are—"

"No, we're not," Graces swore, unable to believe that she was standing in front of Draco in this way.

"You just both disappeared out of Hogwarts today and Valentine's Day," Draco stated dubiously.

"I don't know why Thomas wasn't here on Valentine's Day, but I can assure you he wasn't with me."

Draco was silent for a moment, his eyes studying her carefully. She felt small beneath his stare and the longer his gray eyes bored into her the more she felt as though he could see everything she was hiding. He glanced away, more out of frustration and exhaustion, as though just looking at her for too long was difficult. She looked down. She supposed they had that in common.

"You won't tell me, because you are afraid of losing me. But you lose me more every day you don't," he whispered.

She looked up at his words, but Draco was already walking away from her. She knew she should follow, that she should confess it all now, but she once again could not. Thomas' words and Granger's spread through her head like poison, seeping into every corner of her mind where hope had resided.

Ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Graham was still unsure of what he was doing here. He had tried to ignore Wamil's requests to meet. He had even gone as far as to not open the letters she was sending, but when she cornered him in a hall between classes and physically handed him the letter he couldn't ignore her any longer. He waited in the room more attuned to his heart pounding in his chest than anything else. He didn't know what to say, what he should or could say. Nothing was better, because nothing could change.

He stood there thinking about how she handed him her last note, the determination etched in her face, the fire in her eyes and betrayal the last emotion she allowed to come through.

"So you sleep with me then ignore me?" she asked, her voice tight with emotion.

Graham closed his eyes and let out a breath. "I was always clear; I never left you under any delusion regarding… us."

Wamil glared at him. "Do you have any idea how this week has felt to me?"

"What do you want me to say, Wamil?" he asked, his voice weighted with all of his burden and regret. "I'm sorry? You know I am. I was sorry for the beginning. I'm sorry for it all."

"I am too," Wamil breathed, looking down at the floor as a few tears escaped her. He wanted to reach out and brush them away, but he knew better. Why prolong the inevitable? Wamil took a shaking breath. "I'm pregnant."

Graham felt as though the floor dropped from under him. He was falling down into an abyss and he couldn't breathe or think. He hardly recognized what was happening to him. He stood there trying to make sense out of her words. "No, no you can't be."

"I am," Wamil declared, her voice slightly stronger.

"But... but you're on the potion."

"Why would you think that?" Wamil asked, her brow slightly furrowed.

Graham flushed. "I—well you and the—you said you and the Ravenclaw had—"

Wamil's eyes fluttered with understanding. "Oh, erm, no. David is muggleborn, so we used rubbers."

There was a long silence in which Graham waited for her to explain and when no explanation came he flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"I clearly don't know what those are," he snapped angrily, gesturing for her to continue. Wamil delicately explained and he stood there feeling even more foolish. "Why didn't you ask me to use one? Or tell me to use the damn spell!"

"I wasn't exactly thinking," Wamil snapped back. "And excuse me, but I don't believe you were asking any questions that night either."

Graham cursed and turned away. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to stop breathing like a wild beast. He felt sick. His whole body was on fire and his stomach kept threatening to come up out of his throat. His heart was beating so rapidly he could hear it and no other thoughts could drown out the noise of it in his mind.

He closed his eyes and damned himself. "Do you have any moral qualms with ending the pregnancy?"

He didn't dare turn around to see Wamil's reaction. He stared at one spot on the wall and inwardly braced himself.

"I don't." Wamil sniffed. "But I'm not going to."

Graham's face fell at her words and before he could stop himself he was crying. He turned to her.

"This is my fault. I know this is my fault. But, Wamil, I beg you, please don't have this baby. Please, you have no idea what is to come."

"I just wanted you to know," Wamil said, dismissing everything he had. "You don't have to be involved. I don't want anything from you."

"Damn you! I can't be involved can I?" Graham lashed out angrily, slamming his hand against the wall. "I'm a bloody Death Eater. If anyone found out—" Graham stopped. "I couldn't be involved. There is no choice in this for me."

"Of course there is," Wamil wept. "We can go away together. You can leave all of this. You could stand with me!"

"And what about my sisters? What of their children?" Graham demanded. "What of them? If I break away he will kill them. How can I walk away from my family like that? "

"How can you walk away from your child like that?" Wamil countered.

"If you go through with having this child it is far safer not being associated with me. If you do this you will have to do it alone. If I leave they hunt me down, and if they hunt me down and find me with a child—" Graham stopped. He didn't want to even consider that scenario. "Merlin, Wamil, what did you think would happen? That you would tell me and I would be able to walk away from everything and be with you? That we would be together and get married and raise this child as if there wasn't a war going on?"

Wamil swallowed. "Well, like I said, we don't need you. I have a good family," she whispered more to herself than to him. "My parents love me and they will help and my brothers are all older and they will help me too. And I'm still going to graduate, no one need know."

"You think that's all there is?" Graham asked, shaking his head. "They... they are going to go after anyone who is muggleborn. The Ministry is going to fall, Wamil. There are too many players in that system working to bring it down. And then they will go after anyone interbred and kill them. Do you understand what I am saying to you? It will be a mass genocide. How will you survive that pregnant or with a baby? How will you get away?"

"I don't need to get away. I will fight."

"Fight pregnant? Fight with a baby on your hip?" Graham challenged in dismay.

"I will take care of the baby, he or she will be safe. I—"

"I don't give a damn about the baby." Graham snarled in frustration. "I care about you! I want you to be safe! I want you to be okay! You are here! You're alive now! Damn it, Wamil, think about yourself! How are you going to get out? How will you survive? Your name is on a list! It's there, they don't even know you're a siren, they are going to kill you for being mixed with veela. You are not some abstract in a grand scheme, you're listed!"

For a brief moment she had the reaction he wanted. Her eyes widened in fear and panic struck her features as true understanding came. He expected her to ask questions, to want to know how and why, but she asked nothing. Her eyes were turned inward to her own thoughts and memories as she digested what it was he had told her. She hardened herself in that moment before looking up at him with the same determination that made him fall for her in the first place.

"You don't need to worry about me," Wamil said steadily. "I will be fine."

"No, you won't. They are going to have mercenaries hunting you down. These people they don't—they enjoy what they do. Please don't do this," Graham begged.

"It's done," the other girl maintained, staring up at him, her face blank from emotion. "We're done."

Graham balked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean we're done. There is no need for us to be in contact with one another. As far as I am concerned this baby is mine and mine alone. I am not going to tell anyone you are the father and you do not need to be in my life or this child's life. Nothing happened between us, it never was."

"Wamil—" Graham moved to touch her, but she tore herself away.

"Let's not make this harder than it has to be," she said quietly. "I don't hate you, I'm not mad at you. I knew from the moment I saw your arm what your choice was and I still wanted something." Wamil shook her head, as if she could see her past self's mistakes before her eyes. "And I didn't think you would choose me after finding this out. Not really," she whispered. "I just felt you should know."

"Do you think I don't want to choose you?" Graham asked, hurt despite himself. "That I don't want to be with you?"

"Honestly, Graham, I don't know if I want you to choose me. I don't know if I want to be with you. I think I am holding on to the person I think you could be and not the person you are. I've romanticized you to the point where I don't see reality. A few good moments and I ignore the rest. Part of me is relieved you want nothing to do with this child, that you don't care about it, because I don't want my child thinking that being like you is okay. I don't want them to grow up knowing their father was a Death Eater. I don't want to justify that to my child. I can't. Time and time again you have made the wrong choice. And if actions make a person, you are not a person I want to be raising a child with me."

When Graham was eight he and his family had all gone to the beach. His sisters had all stopped swimming at some point and decided to lay out and take a nap in the sun, but he wanted to keep swimming. Melantha, one of his middle sisters, had said she would watch him. And from everything he knew about the day she had, she just didn't recognize what it looked like when a child was drowning. She had thought if he needed help he would shout or scream for it, she didn't know that all his efforts were being put into getting another breath of air before another wave of water drowned him. By the time she realized he had been so desperate for air that he was breathing in salt water, making things worse because in his head it was the only thing he could think to do for the chance of air. He remembered bits and pieces of it all before he passed out, the burning in his lungs, the sinking feeling that came with the knowledge that no one was coming to help him, the desperation he had to survive and how the world itself was putting all it's effort into ending him.

He felt like that now. He was drowning, only right now he didn't want help. He stared down at Wamil and knew everything she was saying was true and that she probably had more to say, but was too kind to say it.

"Goodbye, Graham."

He was left there in the silence of all the things he didn't say and do. He wanted to go after her, tell her that he would figure something else out, but instead he went to the Room of Requirement where Draco was. Duty above all. The blonde looked up and acknowledged his presence before continuing on in his task. Graham sat down with an assortment of books and dived into reading. When his mind drifted to Wamil and his current situation, he reminded himself that Draco could die too and wasting his time thinking about a hopeless situation would not save his friend.

It will damn you forever to her. If she finds out you helped with this. If Draco succeeds with your aid.

Graham swallowed. It didn't matter, she will damn him forever at some point for something he's done. Or maybe he should just consider himself damned. If Wamil knew what part he was playing he was sure she would despise him. Either way there would be a point where she would hate him, if she didn't already, so he may as well try and help Draco. Besides he didn't think he could live with himself if he didn't.

The sound of a chair scraping against stone turned his attention back to the present. Draco slowly took a seat across from him at the withered desk he was sitting at, his gray eyes calmly taking in his appearance. Draco tilted his head slightly as though he saw something and then with a long suffering sigh demanded to know what was wrong.

"Nothing," Graham murmured, unable to muster the enthusiasm to make his voice sound believable.

Draco's eyes narrowed and Graham could see the spark of his ill temperament for a moment on his face, before he seemed to restrain the dragon inside of him.

"Is there something so wrong with me that you feel you cannot trust me? What flaw is it that you see, that Graces sees, where I cannot be trusted?"

Graham flinched at his words, knowing Draco deserved more, but unable to give it.

"Why is it that you think there is a flaw in you and not in us? Perhaps it is not so much your flaw we are concerned with but the flaw in ourselves, and revealing such a flaw to you will only prove what we know already. Telling you only solidifies our own weakness in character. Not telling you allows us the ability to pretend we are something we're not," Graham ended, turning his eyes away from Draco lest he actually find out what it was he was hiding.

Draco made a noise of impatience. "I am tired of talking in riddles, Graham. I want to know what is going on and I know something is going on because you look as though you will be sick at any moment."

Graham just shook his head. "Maybe I'm sick," he murmured flatly.

"Maybe you're full of shit," Draco snapped, slamming his hand against the desk. "I demand to know what is going on with you."

"Why? You can't help me. No one can help me. And telling you will only ruin your opinion of me and put you in danger."

Draco stilled at his words, but didn't seem to back down from his demand. His face held a cautious curiosity to it. "I'm in danger anyways," he said, leaning back against the chair and crossing his arms. "Nothing you tell me will make me in any less or anymore. So you may as well tell me."

Graham felt his stomach twist and the insane urge to give in to this madness and lay bare everything about him and Wamil. But the thing about secrets, and long held secrets, is that sometimes it becomes an odd part of who you are. So telling of your sins will give no absolution because the confession itself does not take away that part of you. Loving Wamil had been a secret for so long that in an odd way it felt like a side of him that no one saw. Even Wamil didn't have the full vision of it. He used to tell himself he was insane and that there was no way to love a girl he barely knew and that this was an infatuation that had gotten out of hand. But he knew that wasn't so. He couldn't tell Draco about this because it would reveal too much of himself, and that was without mentioning the danger it could pose to Wamil.

And my child.

"I can't," he whispered heavily, the back of his throat burning with all his regrets.

Draco shook his head in a mixture of anger and weariness. "Is there a financial way out of your mess?"

Graham scowled. "What?"

"Could gold make it better or help the situation?"

Graham's mind didn't seem to understand what it was Draco was saying. He sat there staring at the blonde as if he had gone mad, which irritated Draco further.

"I'm offering you money," Draco stated firmly. "I don't know what it is that is going on but I know that usually there is a tendency for money to be useful in most all situations."

"I can't take your money," Graham scowled, bewildered at the thought.

"Why? You had no problems taking it before," Draco pointed out.

"That was different," Graham flushed.

"Sentimental about me now?" Draco scoffed, raising a brow.

Graham gritted his teeth. "That was a quid pro quo affair. You were gaining something out of me. It wouldn't be right now."

"You help me a lot. Consider payment."

"I do that because I am your friend," Graham growled. "I don't want money for it."

"Well, I am giving you money because you are mine and I want to help you. So take it," Draco said simply.

"Draco," Graham said slowly with much mustered patience. "Believe me when I tell you that you would not approve of how this money would be spent. I cannot take money from you and knowingly use it for something that you would disapprove of."

Both Draco's brows went up and he had this smug amusement on his face that made Graham want to stand up and punch him.

"I would not approve?" he asked, his voice telling how scandalous he found this. "Well, if I would not approve, I take it your mother and father would not. And considering, though you took the patriarchy from your father, you didn't further embarrass him by closing the family vaults to him, I believe you wouldn't want to take a large sum out lest he follow the gold or inquire what is going on. If I don't approve, your father definitely will not."

"And your personal accounts are probably sparse," Draco continued. "I mean, I don't think even with what Graces and I gave you and your own money from your trust that you have much left. Starting a business is a lot of money and you didn't start small, you went quite large. Hired many, bought a building, and dove right in. Your profit margin couldn't have replaced the salaries alone you started people on when nothing was coming in."

"The business is not in trouble," Graham said with dangerous quietness. "This isn't about that."

"No, I didn't think it was," Draco said slowly. "You think I don't check up on it myself? I don't want my sister marrying into a failed endeavour." Draco shrugged, as if it was a totally normal thing for him to worry about. "The thing is, Graham, I know you don't have much in your personal vault and now I know you can't take it from the family without inquiries. So take it from me. If it helps you I want you to."

"I don't want this being traced to you either," Graham pointed out. He tried to put away the temptation to take money from the boy in front of him, but he couldn't stop thinking of all the ways he could get Wamil and her family out if he had it. He could try again to set her up with a new life and identity somewhere far away, he could even get a house for her somewhere far far away. His mind was racing with all the possibilities.

"You know one thing you haven't said, Graham," Draco said quietly, breaking his thoughts so he turned and looked upward at him. "You haven't said money wouldn't help."

Draco picked up a spare quill and a piece of paper. "My family has some muggle accounts, we have—" He paused and teetered his head back and forth. "—a very old deal with one of the muggle churches. We get a considerable amount of money from them. Obviously, we are not advertising this," he said, giving him a pointed look. "I am going to set you up a muggle account. No one needs to know. And the money won't be traced to me."

Draco slid the paper over to him and Graham gawked at the amount written. "How much money does your family have?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Enough to where no one would even notice that amount being gone," Draco admitted.

"I can't take this," Graham said thickly.

"I'll make the account regardless," Draco shrugged. "And I have no plans on ever looking into whether it was used or not. So you take it and make good use of the money, or it just sits in a muggle bank forever."

Graham shook his head. "If you knew why I needed this you would despise me. You would cast me off. You would possibly even wish me dead and then follow through with making it happen."

Draco looked at him sternly before leaning over the desk so that his eyes were so close Graham could see the odd specs of blue that flickered in the gray.

"I will never hate you. Maybe I would disapprove, but I could never hate you. Nor would I cast you out. And I certainly would not want or allow you to die," Draco swore. "I am not one who cares for many, I care for few and most of the people that I want to keep my company are those who are of use to me, you are not in the latter category. You are my friend, for no reason other than I care deeply about you. The only thing, the one singular thing you could do to make me hate you, is refuse to take care of Graces should I die. Anything else you do may not have my approval, but still guarantees you my affection."

"And if this mistake that I made puts her in danger? What then?" Graham challenged, his voice tight with emotion. "If I marry her and years later it comes to rear its head and she's in danger then, what do you think then?"

Draco still held his eyes and he searched for something there before declaring. "I've put her in danger. My father put her in danger. I would even say my mother put her in danger. I would say you did the best you could and that you are human, just as we are. I can forgive that."

Graham felt as though something inside him broke at those words. As if he had absolution for all that he had done. He hadn't realized just how scared he was of Draco hating him should something happen. He wouldn't allow anything to, he would keep his words and keep Graces safe, but knowing that Draco wouldn't hate him made some part of him feel better. He wept silently into his hand and wished to be alone, but Draco remained near. His hand quietly on the other boy's shoulder.

He still wouldn't tell him. He wasn't going to risk Wamil, nor was he going to put Draco in such a position to be openly conspiring to save people against the Dark Lords' wishes, but he felt at least in that moment like he could tell Draco.

"You should say all this to Graces."

"Graces should know." Was Draco's only reply.

Don't forget to follow/ review!

Also, I was gifted fanart from Drew Winchester. (You can check it out on my Ao3 page in this chapter, just scroll to the bottom.)She was sweet enough to offer to draw OCs on instagram and I thought the gesture was so generous and thoughtful I offered to write her a one shot for being so kind. So keep an eye out for a one shot of her OC Audrey and Neville on my Ao3 page. One thing I love about writing fanfiction is the community. The readers who support people's writing, fan artisits helping to bring scenes and characters to life, betas who edit work for writers, and I am happy that I could give back to Drew and give her a quick one shot based on one of her pieces of art.

If you get the chance please look her up on instagram drewwinchester and give her some love for this. She posted it a few weeks ago it's under 7oc :D