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Chapter 109

Miss Graces Malfoy,

We at Gringotts are writing to inform you that your access to the Malfoy vaults has been suspended. Access to your personal account has also been rescinded. This action was ordered by the primary beneficiary of the Malfoy estate, who is also trustee in charge of all personal accounts and inheritance of yourself until you come of age.

Please see the listed laws below that—

Neville's jaw tensed and he fought the urge to tear the damn letter up. Graces sat across the table from him watching for a reaction that he was sure he was not doing well to hide. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, he was so furious with Draco. Taking the accounts was a statement that reminded Graces of her place in their family.

"I'm adding you to my account tomorrow," he declared, standing up to get some water from the kitchen, hoping to hide how his face was burning with rage.

"I think we both know that isn't an option."

"Sure it is," Neville nodded, looking forward at the wall behind the sink and doing his best to rein in his temper.

Graces was silent for a moment and the slight scraping of the chair made him aware that she had stood. He didn't look over at her, couldn't look at her. She hovered near him and from the corner of his eye he could see her nervously fidgeting with her ring.

"Your Gran will not be happy when she sees my name on the family vault," she pointed out gently.

Neville's jaw tensed. "Well, good thing it's not her decision."

"Is that how you want her to find out about us?"

No, it wasn't. "I will tell her about us beforehand."

He knew very well that that conversation would not go well. He never expected it to go well if he was being honest, but if he told her like this it would be a complete disaster. He doubted even his Uncle Algie could withstand the hellfire his gran would rain down upon him.

"Neville," Graces sighed. "Be reasonable."

She pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his neck and wrapped her hands around him in an attempt to cool the fire that was taking over him.

"I am being reasonable," Neville spat, putting the water glass down and moving out of her arms. "More reasonable than your git of a brother."

Another mistake. Silence surrounded them at his words and Graces' refusal to rise to his anger somehow made it all worse. She looked as though he had slapped her and maybe in a way he had. She loved Draco, even through her anger she loved him, and he hadn't been able to say a kind word, or try to be understanding in regards to the other boy since seeing the bruising on her neck.

"I'm tired," she whispered defeatedly. "I'm going to bed."

She gently brushed her hand against his arm in a gesture he wasn't quite sure he understood. From the outside it looked like a calming touch, but in reality it felt empty. In fact she seemed empty, like a watering can that had spent all it's water and was still trying to give from the deep hollowness of itself. He watched helplessly as she walked to their bedroom. He was going to follow her, he was going to try and approach all this, but he also needed to understand it better.

He re-read the letter again. It wasn't the cause of this all. That laid in the rubble of Draco and Graces' bond. Graces had been right, he didn't understand what Draco meant to her, but he was beginning to. Each day that this quarrel between them lasted was another day that something was chipped away from her.

He refilled his glass of water and grabbed another one and tentatively entered the bedroom. Graces was laying motionless facing the opposite wall, the light and her uniform still on. He sat on the bed once again at a loss for words.

"I know you want to tell." She sniffed, her fingers digging into her pillow. "I know you're mad at me too."

"I'm not—"

"You are," Graces interrupted, her voice breaking with tension. "I know you are. You're mad that I won't let you go to McGonagall. You're mad that you have to sit there each evening and lie to her. You're mad that I won't allow you to weigh in on my decision regarding Draco. You're mad that I didn't tell him about us. You're mad I didn't let you come. You're mad that I bind you and refuse to set you free."

Neville pressed his lips together and stared at water in his hands, before setting them down on his nightstand. "I am frustrated."

"Frustrated with me," Graces muttered, holding her arms closer to her.

Neville turned and watched her press into herself and though he couldn't see her face he knew silent tears ran down it.

He gently reached a hand to her shoulder before whispering for her to come here. When she didn't move to him, he moved more to her, circling his arm around her and holding her from behind until the warmth of him was too much for her to resist and she turned to him. He said nothing as her arms wrapped around him desperately and her tears turned from silent to agonizing.

"I just want to keep you safe," he whispered. He had said it so many times at this point it felt redundant to repeat. Everything for him was about keeping Graces safe and the problem was Graces had so many others she wanted to keep safe. She wanted Thomas safe, Draco safe, Graham safe and yes she wanted him safe as well. He didn't know how to get them off of this sinking ship, because Graces was happy to go down with it along with the others.

"This silence between you and Draco can't continue, Graces," Neville pointed out. "It just can't. You're making yourself sick. We have to tell him. What happens from there is Draco's choice."

"I can't tell him now," Graces begged. "Not when things are so bad between us."

Neville closed his eyes. "Things don't seem like they are getting better, they seem as if they are getting worse."

"This can't last," Graces whispered, shaking her head. "We've never fought like this before. Never. And I know he feels bad, I know it. He has to. Draco's just trying to get me to approach him first. As bad as he feels, he thinks he can't let me win. He is just trying to—"

"So approach him first. We can go to him first and—"

"No," Graces stated firmly. "No, if we go to him now he won't accept us, he will—"

"He will what? Hurt you? He's already hurting you. Disown you? It looks like he's on that road if this letter—"

"That letter is just to get a rise out of me, remind me that he has control," Graces dismissed heatedly, sitting up so she could meet Neville's eye. "He—"

"Graces," Neville shook his head. "This is getting out of hand. It's already been almost two weeks since your fight and I am concerned over how far Draco is going to go. He seems to be getting desperate. And you two are not talking so I have no idea exactly how desperate he is becoming."

"He's just scared," Graces whispered, her gray eyes welling with more emotion. "He's scared, Neville, please."

"Don't you think having McGonagall and Dumbledore tell him they know, tell him they want to help him will relieve him of that burden?" Neville pointed out imploringly.

Graces pressed her knuckles to her lips. "It's more complicated than that. Our mother is still being held. He may just see the betrayal and… and go, refuse to leave so he can protect her. I don't know what he will do, I don't know how deep these roots go. I don't even know what plan Dumbledore has and I—" She stopped and shook her head.

Neville swallowed and rubbed the bridge between his eyes. "I feel like we're in this never ending cycle, Graces. And you know I am willing to follow you anywhere, to do anything for you, but I need you to understand each day makes me a little more unwell."

The blonde's lip trembled at his confession and a part of him thought to stop there, but another part told him to press on.

"And I don't say that to burden you. Or to force your decision, but it needs to be said," Neville nodded. "And I don't want to talk to some stranger about myself, like McGonagall wishes, because I know that isn't the issue. This right here is my issue. And even if I got help they wouldn't be allowed to know what it is that keeps me up at night."

"I worry about you constantly. Every moment you are away from me I feel more fear than I ever felt in the ministry and I have to remind myself each minute of the day that I cannot demand you be with me at all times, but that is my wish. And not so that I can enjoy your company, but so I can look and see that you are safe and living."

"But telling Draco may not make me any safer, it—"

"Telling Draco means that the adults have more of a handle on what is going on. It allows for someone much wiser than I to take care of this and for me to focus on just you, and not all the things that could be coming," Neville pressed. "Dumbledore will absolutely be able to make you safe."

Graces let out a scoff. "Dumbledore has failed to keep many people safe, Neville."

Neville swallowed. "I don't think he will fail you."

He could see the doubt welling up in her eyes, but she said nothing else about it. He waited for more, prayed for more, he wanted her to scream and fight, not to succumb to whatever melancholy had taken hold of her. He didn't care if they stayed up all night discussing Dumbledore, or Draco, or whatever else it was, but he wanted something.

"I really am tired," she whispered after a long while. "I just want to go to bed."

Neville closed his eyes. It was over, he couldn't expect her to give something that wasn't in her to give. If he tried to coax a conversation now it wouldn't lead to anything except her tears. He laid down next to her and held her against him. He wished he knew what to do or say. He felt like somewhere in him there were words that could reach her, but he didn't know where to find them.

"If you need anything you tell me and I'll buy it."

Graces let out a breathy laugh and absently touched his arm, before slowly drifting off to sleep. Neville laid there next to her, but sleep didn't come for hours. When it finally did come he had a half-formed idea of how to talk to Graces regarding Draco.

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"Draco."

Draco's heart practically blasted out of his chest. He jerked up with such force he would have toppled out of bed if it weren't for the strong arm that steadied him. He looked up to see Graham staring down at him, his face a mixture of shock and pity as Draco regained himself. The feeling of relief at seeing Graham's face didn't last long as a wave of embarrassment overtook him.

"What the bloody hell are you doing in my bed?" Draco hissed, backing up against the headboard to get some space between him and the other boy.

"I need to talk to you."

Draco blinked wildly. "Now?"

Graham just nodded. Draco took another moment to collect himself as well as look about to see if anyone was listening to this interaction. The curtains to his bed were closed and he assumed his silencing charm was still intact on them. He was also very aware that Graham was fully dressed while he was nestled under the covers in his pajamas. He flushed at the exposure and fought the urge to hug the covers closer to himself.

"Well," the blonde demanded, "what is it?"

Graham handed Draco a sheaf of parchment and before Draco could reach for his wand the other boy held out the tip of his and murmured a quiet "Lumos". Draco licked his lips and began reading the parchment in front of him.

He stilled.

"How?"

Graham shook his head. "It doesn't matter how, it's done."

"Your uncle can't do this. He—"

"Why not?"

Draco licked his lower lip and then bit it in thought. "There's no point. It would never work. It—"

"My uncle is testifying that your father had nothing to do with what happened at the ministry."

"There were other people there," Draco reminded him.

"Ronald Weasley, who was being attacked by some sort of brain and was out of his mind. Luna Lovegood—" Graham snorted. "—who doesn't ever make sense, not the best of witnesses. Hermione Granger who was incapacitated. Harry Potter, whose guardians never gave consent to allow him to testify as to what happened in the Ministry. Ginny Weasley, never had straight interactions with your father when he wasn't wearing a mask. She technically couldn't say she knew for sure. Sirius Black who has passed. And—"

"Neville Longbottom," Draco swallowed. "Who—may I remind you—my father taunted and tortured, who can easily testify and prove without a shadow of a doubt that my father was in control of his mind and body."

Graham cleared his throat slightly. "I have a feeling he could be persuaded."

"Persuaded to recant his testimony?" Draco scoffed. "You think Gryffindor Nevile Longbottom would choose to lie for me?"

Graham's brow raised slightly. "Not lie, just not re-testify."

"My father was still there, even if—"

"My Uncle is willing to say he was there because he himself put your father under the Imperius curse, that your father was at the wrong place at the wrong time and they took advantage. Only Neville had a conversation with your father that proves he was in his right mind. Well, Neville and Harry, but Harry's not a problem as I mentioned earlier."

"My uncle is also going to say that your father tried to fight the Imperius curse, that he deflected an attack that your Aunt sent, he demanded no one hurt you, he even pleaded for Potter to do as they were asking so that they could just leave." Graham smirked. "Your father did do all those things, granted not for the reasons that are being said, but he did do those things. Even if Ginny Weasley does testify she couldn't deny those things were done."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "You can't be this delusional. Longbottom would never allow this."

"It's a chance," Graham said quietly, but not weakly.

Draco looked up at the other boy and bit the inside of his cheek. "Thank you for doing this. It means—" Draco paused "It means a lot. And I have no idea how you were able to convince your uncle to do this, let alone reach him in Azkaban, but I think it's best we don't pursue it. It won't work and I don't think I can take that disappointment. I've accepted I'm going to die, my focus now is Graces."

"Graces will die with you," Graham swore.

"No, she will not. She can't. I—"

"She is not going to marry me," Graham snapped. "She has made that very clear and nothing you do is going to persuade her otherwise. I think even if there wasn't some bloke she wouldn't marry me. She loves you and she will not stand a world without you in it."

He hated how much truth was in those words. It was sick, that kind of thinking had to come from a mind that was already ill, and at the same time those words she said, her declaration that she was always going to die with him was the one thing he held onto as proof that his sister still loved him as much as he loved her.

"I know it hasn't felt like that lately, but we both know it to be true. So if she really is your focus you will do this to save her. If your father was out it would save you. Let him take care of this."

Draco swallowed. It was too much to hope for. He imagined a world with his father back, all the ways the other man could help him, protect him, gods it would be worth it just to see him. He felt his throat go dry at the thought of getting to see his father once again. Maybe even this whole burden would be lifted. Perhaps the Dark Lord would have better use for his father and let all of this go, or at the very least be more patient.

"The worst that could happen is Longbottom would say no," Graham whispered. "And I think he understands how badly the two of you need your father."

"And if he doesn't," Graham paused for a moment. "Perhaps you, or Graces, could talk to him."

Draco sucked on a tooth in thought. Neville wasn't without compassion, he was actually quite compassionate. He thought about how Neville had helped them this year. Even after he and Graces had been cruel to him, he had always been kind. He imagined if he spoke with him that the other boy would want to help. He couldn't tell him anything, but he could explain that without their father both he and Graces had no protection from people who would want to hurt them.

I could remind him of what happened to Graces. He thought, his own throat growing tight at the memories, at his failing to protect her.

"Do you think he's still sweet on her? On Graces? Cause if he is then I think she would just have to ask."

Graham's brow raised slightly and Draco scowled at how annoyed he was with the question. "Yeah, I'm sure he is." The blonde felt as though he were missing something and was about to question Graham further on the subject, but the other boy pressed forward. "Draco, I honestly believe this will work, that this is your last chance, but there will be quite a bit of coin needed to help work the system in our favor. My uncle's statement is not going to be enough."

His last chance. It all seemed so surreal. Was this it? Was this insane plan the only way that he was going to live beyond sixteen? The thought made his stomach twist to the point where he trembled. "Okay," he nodded, clearing his head. "Let's do it."

"Oh, it's done," Graham said, laying down next to Draco and letting out a yawn. "I've already set everything in motion. I've been working on this nonstop since our little chat."

"So this wasn't you asking for permission, this was you notifying me," Draco stated flatly.

"Yeah."

Draco stared down at the other boy and then looked away. "Why are you always so nice to me?"

"Friends are nice to one another," Graham said in an airly dismissive tone. "So I'm told."

"This is beyond nice," Draco pointed out quietly, plucking at a strand of string on the covers to help quiet his thoughts.

There was a long silence. "You would have done it for me. You've done similar for me," Graham murmured.

Draco didn't know what to say to that. The things he had done had just been monetary, nothing like the work and effort Graham put into helping him. Beyond just this he had done so much before helping him with the cabinet. He laid down next to the other boy, careful to allow enough space to not touch him, and stared up at the canopy.

"Are you sleeping here?" Draco asked, unable to keep the nervous tone out of his voice.

"Trying to."

"You-you don't think that's odd?"

Graham took a long breath. "It is odd, but I hate being alone with myself lately."

Draco wasn't sure what to make of all that, so he just laid there.

Graham nudged him with his knee. "Don't be so awkward, Malfoy. I'm keeping my clothes on and my shoes. In case you need a good kick."

Draco sat up for a moment and saw that Graham indeed had his shoes on.

"That's disgusting," he proclaimed, laying back down and feeling a bit better regarding the situation.

"Your bed, not mine," Graham yawned, his breath slowing.

Draco couldn't sleep right away. His mind was now racing with the possibility of his father being released. He was scared to want this, to hope for this. When he woke up the next morning Graham was gone, but that hope had turned into pure desperation. He was going to get his father out. If this was the last thing that could save him, could save Graces and his mother, he was going to make sure it happened. He had failed with the cabinet, but he wouldn't fail with this.

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