Special thanks to Fishywishygirl, redrosefire123455778, Iknowimafangirl, simmens, RIOSHO, 71, threereasonswhy, Malfoy Mouth James- MMJ, anand891996 and Janeth16 for the reviews and always Denarii for all the editing.
Chapter 111
Graces showed up in her chambers an hour past when she was told to. Worse than that, it was already the third time Minerva had summoned her. She was just about to march to the dungeons and get the girl herself when the door clicked opened. The blonde didn't move away from the door. She stood there in all her defiance, her eyes fixated down on the stone floor.
"You ignored my earlier summons," McGonagall commented, leaning back in her own chair. "You missed dinner last night and today. Neville says you have refused to speak with him, sent his letters back unopened, and have even gone so far as to skip Herbology to not be near him."
Graces continued to remain silent, but she at least was now looking at her.
"Do you have nothing to say?"
Graces gray eyes narrowed in the same manner she had seen Lucius Malfoy's eyes narrow. "I know where you stand and I know where Neville stands. What is there to say, Professor?"
"Graces, I know that you are many things, but daft is not one of them."
"There is nothing to say, so it's better nothing be said."
Graces said it all with such finality that the older woman was taken aback momentarily. It didn't make sense for Graces to have nothing to say. Even now as much as Graces was trying to hide her own feelings it was obvious that there were a lot. Her body seemed taut with tension and her eyes blazed with anger that the older woman was sure was nothing but a cover for pain.
"Is this how you want your relationship with Neville to be?" McGonagall demanded. "Do you even want a relationship with him at all?"
Graces chin tilted up slightly at her last question. As if the question in itself were preposterous. "Of course I do."
"Do you think Neville knows that?"
Graces frowned slightly. "Neville knows I love him."
McGonagall gave the girl before her a look of aghast disbelief. "Do you honestly believe that ignoring Neville the past few days has made him feel secure in that love? That your refusal to speak, or so much as look at him, has not caused him great pain and anxiety?"
Graces maintained her stubborn silence, but she did walk into the room and to take a seat adjacent to where the older woman was sitting. She sat there for a moment gathering her thoughts before her eyes turned up.
"Tell Neville that he and I are fine, but I do not wish to see him for the moment."
McGonagall had seen this side of Graces many times over the years and had realized early in their discussions that Graces tended to withdraw into herself before she combusted. She had a feeling that before the events of this past year Graces could do this- take her feelings and burry them deep- without any serious consequences to her own mental state. She wondered if this was taught to her, or if it was something she saw from her father and idealized. Lucius Malfoy as a student had been an arrogant beast, but he also had a face that could not be read easily. Narcissa had it to a degree as well, but her eyes were too vibrant to hide her thoughts. In fact, the more she thought on this the more she realized that the majority of her pureblooded students seemed to have something similar.
"Graces, I am not going to tell Neville anything. You are going to talk to him."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are," McGonagall declared, standing up from where she was. "You and Neville need to discuss this. You and Neville should be—"
"Neville and I have absolutely no reason to discuss—"
"Graces, I will not argue this any longer," the older woman snapped. "It is absolutely ridiculous that this is even a discussion and I am appalled that you have chosen this course of action. I thought you could behave more like an adult in this relationship. But since you cannot, I will move you forward. Neville and you will speak. Tonight, and I am going to moderate that discussion to ensure that you are not any more foolish than you have already been."
No sooner had the harsh words escaped her that she regretted it. Graces flinched back and her demeanor crumbled with her face. She tried in vain to wipe away her tears, but her emotions had already sprung to the surface.
"I can't see him," Graces sputtered through her tears. "Please, please you have to—"
"Graces," McGonagall started again, trying her best to be more gentle with the blonde as she moved to touch her shoulder. "Neville—"
"No!" Graces howled, moving away from the embrace offered to her. "I can't. I can't."
Minerva could feel her patience slipping from her again. "Why?"
"Because if I see him I'll ask him to," Graces admitted, turning her face away to hide her shame. "How could I not? It's my dad. I'll ask him, beg him, and he will say no. It's my dad and I know what and all he is, but he was always a good dad and I love him. And I need him. Draco and I both need him. And I will hate Neville for not giving me my dad when it's in his power to do so. I'll hate him for not saving my brother. Me. My mum. But if I don't see him, I can't ask. And, and I need not be able to ask, because if I can't ask then he didn't deny me this."
"Graces," McGonagall whispered. "Surely you realize that you have to speak to Neville. That—"
"If I don't ask, he didn't say no, and we're not ruined." Graces face crumbled with emotion and McGonagall looked away as the other girl tried in vain to gather herself. "I ask too much of him already. I know better than to ask this, but I won't be able to help myself."
"Graces, your father hurt so many, killed and—"
"That's enough."
Both women turned and it was Neville's wary voice that had sounded. He moved away from the wall he was leaning against and McGonagall realized he must have been there for a while, listening to her and Graces' conversation. Graces shook her head at the sight of him, as though she wanted to believe he wasn't there. She moved the back of her hand to her head before turning around defeated.
Neville moved over to her and held her silently as she wept. At first Graces didn't welcome the touch at all and tried to move away from him, but it wasn't long before she turned into him and allowed her tears to soak the neck of his collar.
"I love him," Graces begged, the words aching with all the shame she felt. "I don't care what he's done, Neville, he's always been amazing to me. I got tea parties and Quidditch games. And when I ruined my party dress cause I was playing outside with it he went to Paris and got me a new one before my mum found out."
"I know," Neville stammered, near tears. He rested his hand on Graces head and the thought occurred to the other woman that he did so in order to ensure Graces wouldn't look up at him, that he couldn't bear to see her tears.
"You don't have a dad," Graces sobbed, the words almost hateful. "You can't know."
"Neville," McGonagall whispered, her voice warning. "You cannot—"
"Now isn't the time," Neville said, a hard edge toning his voice.
"No, now is exactly the time," Professor McGonagall said firmly. "This is not just a matter of justice, and I do understand that this is difficult, but allowing Lucius Malfoy to walk free is allowing a key player in this war to—"
"I am well aware of what it would do."
"Then you are well aware there is no choice. Only duty."
McGonagall had known Neville for a while now and in her bones she knew that he was good. That he believed in right and wrong, morally gray was not a place where Neville could live. Graces could live there, thrive there even, but for Neville it would drown him. He would live with regret, with second guessing his decisions, it would slowly eat away at him til he despised himself. He was a good man and good men had a more difficult time being anything but righteous. And yet as she met Neville's eyes she knew that he would choose wrong for Graces.
"Neville, you cannot—"
Three sharp bangs on her chamber door stopped her from continuing. Neville and Graces both looked over to the doorway and McGonagall motioned for them to move more into the living area so as not to be seen. Three additional knocks, more desperate than the first, came and she made her way to the door only to open it as Hermione Granger almost knocked again.
"Miss Granger, I'm sorry but—"
"This can't wait. Neville is sleeping with Graces Malfoy. And I believe she's been manipulating him all year." Hermione rushed into her chambers while the other woman was still trying to get her bearings. "I think she seduced him in order to—"
Hermione stopped short at the sight of Neville and Graces embracing in the corner by the fireplace. Neville's face was one of balled up fury, he motioned to take a step forward, but Graces refused to release her arms from around him. For a brief moment he looked as though he would pull her arms away from himself, but she shook her head.
"Get her out of here." A white line edged around Neville's thinning lips.
"Miss Granger," McGonagall said quietly, but by no means weakly. "Come."
Rage didn't even begin to cover everything that Neville was feeling as he watched Professor McGonagall guide Hermione into the hall. He tried to take a breath, tried to listen to whatever Graces was saying to try and soothe him but the words 'manipulating' and 'seduced' just kept repeating over and over in his head and everything those words entailed.
"Neville," Graces whispered. "Don't."
It was too late though his mind was already made up and his feet were already striding towards the door. Graces again told him to stop and grabbed the arm of his robes, but he tore it away. When Neville yanked open the door Hermione and McGonagall were right outside it. And he could tell by the look on Hermione's face that she was already getting an ear full.
"You couldn't just keep out of it could you? My word isn't good enough, eh? Why is it you think I am so bloody stupid?" Neville snapped, moving so that Hermione had to take a step back and McGonagall pushed herself between them.
"Neville, stop," Graces hissed, grabbing his arm so abruptly he could feel her nails dig in through the cloth.
"She basically called you a whore. A whore, Graces."
If the word bothered her she didn't show it. Neville looked down at her gray eyes, so cool and collected compared to what they were moments ago. "I really don't care if Hermione Granger thinks I'm a whore."
"I care," Neville seethed. "Especially when she sees fit to tell others."
Graces tactfully cleared her throat. "Well, I am sure Professor McGonagall will straighten everything out, so there's no need for you to."
Neville clenched his jaw and looked past McGonagall at Hermione.
"Whatever I choose to do in regards to Lucius Malfoy is my business. No one manipulated me or seduced me. It is my choice."
"He tortured you."
"And he raised her."
"Who may I remind you also tortured you for the better part of five years!" Hermione cast out, both students ignoring their professor's orders.
A heavy silence filled the corridor as Neville's eyes narrowed. "Let me be clear," Neville began, his voice edged like a knife. "Lucius, Graces, and Draco Malfoy never hurt me nearly as much as you have this year. You were supposed to be my friend. I asked you to trust me, to mind my privacy and every chance you have had you have gone behind my back because you didn't think I was smart enough to make my own decisions."
Hermione had the decency to look contrite at his words. She stared down at her shoes and her face had lost the vigor it had had when she burst through the doors and told McGonagall what was happening.
"What should I have believed, Neville?" She asked quietly. "From everything I had seen and heard with the information I had, what was I supposed to think?"
"I didn't ask you to think. I begged for faith," Neville recalled bitterly. "And I believe after everything that has happened I deserved that faith. And I deserved the privacy of my feelings and my relationship. I didn't owe you or anyone an explanation for myself, especially when I wanted nothing more than to investigate those feelings on my own."
McGonagall momentarily closed her eyes for a moment to regain herself. "Neville, you and Miss Malfoy will go back to my chambers while I speak to Miss Granger."
Neville stared at Hermione a moment longer before turning away. Graces hesitated to follow as though she were torn between obeying McGonagall and staying to hear what would be said, but eventually she turned and walked back in the chambers with him. However she did not join him on the couch, she walked absently away and stood by the fireplace her arms folding around herself despite the warmth of the room.
"Did you say all that to hurt Hermione or are you really considering allowing my father to return?" she asked quietly, her gray eyes watching the flames lick and dance before her.
Neville remained where he was seated and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. "I love you and as much as I want to do what is right I have to at least consider this."
Neville knew she was staring at him now, but he didn't remove his eyes from the ceiling. He couldn't see the hope in her eyes, not when he knew he most likely wouldn't grant her this.
"Be honest with me," Graces begged. "If you had to answer now, if you had to, what would your answer be?"
Neville held his breath for a moment, not wanting to answer until his voice was stronger for the declaration. "No."
"So you taking time to consider this is just a courtesy, it's not because you may choose to allow him freedom?" She asked, her voice a mixture of pain and anger.
Neville looked at her now. Sometimes Graces reminded him of how painfully and quickly she had to grow up. He had no doubt she understood. Her refusal to see him and the conversation he had walked in on showed him that. But her heart was still young and innocent in some ways. She loved her dad with a childlike love and forgiveness. She understood what he was, but it never reached into her heart where all those feelings and memories laid. She would understand his decision, but it would break her heart all the same and rip out another part of her that could never be put back. Lucius Malfoy had given her everything she wanted in life, he had loved her with no regard to the world around him. He wondered if she would know how to accept love different from that which her mother and father had given her.
"Do you honestly think that I would say I was considering something while having no intention of actually thinking it through? Especially when I know how much this would mean to you?"
He could see the spiteful retort on her tongue before she made it and Neville sat up and looked at her in warning. She glared at him for a moment before swallowing whatever she was about to say. He wasn't angry, if anything he thought a considerable amount more of the girl in front of him. She wanted to not press, not manipulate and demand, but he could tell everything in her was screaming to do just that. He didn't want to leave, but he knew where this was all about to go and that he should.
"I'm going to go," he murmured quietly.
"What? Why?"
"Because I have an idea what will happen if I stay and I don't think it would be wise for us to continue."
Graces eyes welled up with emotion. "Fine. Leave then. Mr 'Oh we should always talk about things, we should make decisions together.'"
"Graces." He moved closer to her and despite her protests held her close. "I am considering. I swear to the gods I am, but I think we both know the longer I stand here the more inclined you are to try to force my choice."
"Like I even have the power to do so," the blonde sniffed bitterly.
"You have more power than you think," Neville admitted quietly, his heart clenching as Graces looked up at him. For a moment he considered asking her if she would really hate him? If all this would truly ruin them forever, but he stopped himself. He couldn't let that be the reason he let Lucius Malfoy walk free and asking her would only hurt both of them.
"I'll talk with you tomorrow."
"When?" Graces demanded.
Neville balked at the question for a moment. "Maybe... maybe you and I could try again for a date? Dinner?"
"Will you have your answer by then?"
"I don't know," Neville sighed. "But I think it would still be good for us to be alone to talk. I think the time away will let us both get over this shock and clear our heads a bit."
"So I won't see you tonight then? You won't be coming to bed?" Graces asked tightly.
Neville had thought that was pretty obvious, but didn't let Graces see that he felt that way. Instead he just shook his head sadly. Graces face twisted and she turned away so he wouldn't see the tears that were so obviously coming.
"Fine then. Go."
He could hardly bear it. Watching Graces cry was always hard, but leaving when she was so torn apart felt wrong.
"I think you had the right idea in the beginning," he murmured dejectedly. "But in a way it wasn't right because I did need to know how you were feeling."
"Just leave," Graces cried, her shoulders shaking from the sobs she refused to let him see. "I'm not stupid! I knew the answer the moment I knew the question. It doesn't matter what I'm feeling, not really."
Neville gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "Of course how you feel matters to me, why else would I have tried so hard to speak with you? I know you hurt and—" He stood there silently trying to figure out what he could possibly say. "Please have dinner with me tomorrow."
"Why? Just do what we both know you will. Just get it over with so I can move on."
Neville considered what 'move on' meant for a moment, before deciding that he was too scared to know it's meaning at this time.
"Please don't do this," Neville begged.
"I'm not doing anything. I'm not the one leaving."
"Will you though?" Neville whispered, unable to keep himself from asking any longer. Graces did turn at those words and he stood there feeling as though his heart was going to jump out of his throat. "Will… will this ruin us? Will my decision—" He couldn't even finish. He thought of all the things they had talked about in regards to a future and the chance that that could all be over made him more scared than anything else.
Graces didn't seem to have an answer for him. Her eyes shifted away from his and a few times her mouth opened, only to close with no words.
Neville just nodded. "Okay. Okay." He left with that. Quickly hurrying past McGonagall and Hermione speaking so they wouldn't notice his tears. He thought back to the other morning and how wonderful the day had started and felt sick that that could very well be the last good day he had with Graces. He had wanted so badly to have dinner with her that night to talk and get them out of this gray place and now they were even more in the dark.
"Neville!"
Neville turned at the sound of Graces voice and was immediately assaulted with her full weight running into his arms.
"Nothing will ever ruin us," Graces swore, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. "I won't let it, if you won't let it."
His knees felt weak at the declaration and it took everything in him to not collapse on the floor.
"It's your dad," he reminded, unable to keep himself from crying into her neck, from holding her as tight as he could as if it were the last time he could.
"It is and you're really going to consider it, right?"
"Yes," Neville nodded.
"Promise me."
"I promise."
She pulled away from him then and Neville gently brushed some of the tears off her cheeks.
"I don't want to talk tomorrow," she declared. "I just want to have a date."
Neville closed his eyes. "I think we should talk."
"No," Graces shook. "No. There's nothing for us to say. I just want to have a date."
"We can't avoid this," Neville sighed.
"I am not avoiding it," Graces swallowed, her other hand fiddling with the ring on her finger as she seemed to turn the gold over with her thoughts. "I am choosing to trust you. You know me and what I want. You know my family's situation and I trust you to consider all that when you decide. Whatever you decide."
Neville wasn't sure what to say, or even if he should trust that Graces feelings on this matter would stay the same. Her emotions were never a steady stream, she was an ocean vast and unpredictable.
"You should get some rest," he whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
"McGonagall wants to speak with me. I think she wants to speak with you too," Graces added wearily. "I'm supposed to bring you back."
Neville raised a brow. He absolutely was not going back. "I want to make this decision on my own, I would talk to you, but I don't need to hear what McGonagall has to say."
Graces worried her lip as she seemed to consider this. "What should I tell her?"
Neville shrugged. "That you couldn't find me," he said simply.
"Granger will probably be relieved," Graces snorted. "I think she's not quite ready to face you." A small smile broke away from her. "I don't think she knows about your temper," she giggled.
"She knows," Neville said dryly. "I think she also knows I wouldn't hurt her."
"Well, that came into question tonight," Graces pointed out. "I don't know what McGonagall said, but she looks as though she's been quite put out."
Neville didn't particularly find this amusing and really didn't want to discuss Hermione. "You're going back?"
Graces hesitated, but nodded in the end.
"Maybe you should stay the night," Neville murmured quietly.
"Maybe," Graces echoed quietly.
"I would feel better."
Graces made no commitment one way or another. "Where will you sleep?"
"In the Tower." Neville didn't particularly like the idea of sleeping in their bed without Graces on the times he had he found it more lonely. The bed felt too big without her.
Graces shifted uncomfortably. "Potter and Weasley will try to talk to you."
"Yeah, I imagine they will." Neville tensed his jaw. "I am going to talk to Harry, Graces. I don't want to avoid him and he knows about us."
"He will want you to testify," Graces pointed out.
"He will."
Graces seemed to be biting her tongue on the matter.
"Just because Harry speaks with me doesn't mean I will forget how you and your family factor into my choice."
"You're already leaning towards no," Graces mumbled, avoiding his eyes.
Neville knew what was coming with this. If there was one thing he wished he and her could improve upon it was the way they fought. It seemed like they just went on these endless loops that did nothing but hurt the two of them. Well, more so Graces than him.
"Okay, Graces, here are our options." Neville let out a long breath. "I can stay and go over all the things I am thinking about in regards to your father. Things I don't want you to hear and I don't want to say, because you're his daughter and… and he deserves the love you have for him. And a good father doesn't deserve to have his name slandered to his children. Especially by someone who—quite frankly—has benefited greatly from the love and care he gave to her. And we will fight, in a way that I think we both know is incredibly unhelpful and you will cry and I will cry and nothing will be resolved. Or I can go and think about the matter without us having to go through that. Without having us say things that we don't want to say to one another."
"Then who—" She stopped and looked up at him helplessly. "If I don't fight with you, who will fight for him? I know I should leave it, but it feels wrong to. I want to, but I don't want to."
"You don't need to fight for him, because I am already making those lists for you."
"You don't know anything about him."
"It's not about him for me," Neville reminded.
She looked up at him at those words. Her face fractured into a million different emotions that he would never be able to decipher. No matter how many years they had together, or how well he grew to know her, he was never going to be able to understand her perfectly.
"Could I do it, Neville?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Could I—You said I have more power than I know. Do I have this much power?"
Neville felt his heart stop at the question and he didn't even know if Graces could hear the answer escape from his lips he breathed it so softly. "Yes."
Fear took hold of him instantly and as much as he loved Graces he was terrified of what she would do with that information. Her lips trembled against the words she clearly wanted to say, but she allowed none to escape her. She laid her forehead against his and closed her eyes against her tears.
"Do me a favor and get whiskey for tomorrow, not wine," she requested, her voice grainy with emotion. "Good night."
He wanted to say something. Tell her he loved her, something, but everything in him told him to be still, be silent, to let her go. She didn't look back at him once and he stared off into the hall well after she was gone. The choice was his. Something about it made him feel hollow. He walked aimlessly to the tower, his feet remembering the way when his mind was adrift.
"Neville?"
Neville turned and almost fell down the stairs. Graces sat a few stairs above him, to the side of the wall, her knees to her chest almost as if she had been waiting there for him for a great while. He took a step back as she stood, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as she did. This was not Graces. His heart hammered in his chest as he looked at the stranger before him. The stranger wrapped in her skin… wearing her clothes. Who was this?
"Could we speak? Privately?"
He was about to demand to know who it was in front of him when he stopped. He watched as a gray eye shifted nervously, the other hidden under an eye patch, and the person before him bit their lower lip in a way that was too familiar. Draco.
"I-I don't think—"
"I thought we were friends?" Draco whispered, taking a step forward.
Neville did slip as he took a second step back, but Draco's hand—no, Graces' hand—caught him. He tore his arm away once he was steady as if it burned. There was something wrong about the feel of Graces hand on his arm when the person occupying her body wasn't her. He pushed away the memories of Moody and Crouch, the feelings of betrayal now fresh against him.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
The sick feeling only intensified as he looked up at Graces' face staring down at him. Hurt and embarrassment all woven perfectly together, so that for a moment he would forget this was Draco. Or maybe it was Draco, maybe this was a sincere emotion. He bit his tongue.
"Let me have your wand," Neville demanded, holding out his hand.
Graces brows went up in surprise. "I don't have it."
"You don't have your wand?" Neville asked skeptically.
A slight blush formed, but the voice that came was strong. "No, I don't. I thought you would feel more comfortable if I didn't have it."
Neville's eyes narrowed and Draco's frustration began to come forward with each passing moment.
"Merlin, Longbottom," Draco scoffed, a bit of his own personality slipping through "Do you want to pat me down to be sure?"
Neville's eyes swept over him. He took in the dress he was wearing, how it hugged close from the shoulders down to the waist where then it billowed out, the sleeves were tight to the wrist and the collar bone completely exposed with just a small amount of cleavage. Neville realized that as quiet and traditional as the dress was, it was elegant and clearly fashionable. Draco had taken effort in picking this dress. And the jewelry with it as well. Graces didn't often wear earrings, but the ones Draco had selected floated just a little to her neck. The longer he looked he realized the only place a wand could be hidden was either a pocket where the dress began to fall—maybe hidden somewhere in the folds—or against a leg.
"Maybe you would," Draco murmured slightly taken aback, drawing attention to Neville that he had spent far too long looking.
Neville flushed, but ignored the statement. "Can you spread the folds of the dress?"
Draco blinked wildly for a moment and then pressed his hands into the dress smoothing it out.
"No, no like—" Neville gestured his hands out like a woman curtsying. "So I can see if there's pockets."
Draco's mouth twitched slightly, his eyes flashing a spark of approval at the thought and did as Neville requested, slowly and in different areas so Neville could see there was indeed no pocket.
"And, erm, if you could… the dress a bit," Neville requested, his embarrassment now spreading to his neck.
Draco stared at him for a moment, in a way that was amused, but also a bit challenging. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"
"You heard me, Malfoy, don't make things harder than they already are."
"Oh, are things getting hard, Longbottom?"
Neville glared at those words and Draco just rolled his eyes. "It was just a joke, Longbottom. Calm down."
"It wasn't funny."
Graces' eye darted down slightly and Draco gave a slight nod, before lifting the dress slowly up.
"That's enough," Neville said, after he had seen up to the knee.
"Are you sure? I could definitely be hiding something higher. Like on my inner thigh, maybe down from my hip."
"Stop it, Malfoy," Neville snapped, as Draco continued pulling the dress higher. He looked up at the ceiling and had just decided to leave when Draco exclaimed. Well, what do we have here?
Neville looked over and sure enough Draco was pulling a flask out of a thigh holster. The blonde laughed and it was definitely the same smile and laugh Graces gave when she was very pleased with herself.
Draco shrugged in a way that was definitely more him than Graces. "I figured a drink may help us through the conversation."
Neville was definitely not going to take a drink from that flask and his face must have shown evidence of that. Draco fiddled with the object, uncomfortably for a moment.
"Do we have that much distrust between us?" he asked quietly. "I thought we were on better terms than this."
Neville bit the inside of his cheek. He trusted Graces whole heartedly, but this was not Graces. "I know how far I can trust you," he said slowly. "When it comes to your family I know better than to extend the same amount of faith."
"Well, could you trust me enough to speak to me privately?" Draco seemed to sense the hesitancy. "I don't even have a wand, Neville. Please."
Neville considered everything he knew about Draco, what he knew he had done. He forced himself not to look over at his left arm. He wondered if even with the polyjuice potion it would show, if Graces' arm in this form would have that mark. He was well aware that going with Draco somewhere private was a stupid thing to do, but at the same time he couldn't help but agree. Draco was so many things, but he was Graces' brother.
He gestured for Draco to follow him, not willing to let the other boy lead him somewhere he could have hid his wand once Neville agreed. He led him over to a classroom he and Graces used to frequent and opened the door gesturing for the other boy to step in first. Draco did so and waited patiently for Neville to light some torches.
When Neville turned around Draco was adjusting the eye patch slightly. Whether it was irritating or he was just fidgeting it was hard to say. He flushed as he noticed Neville's stare. "Does it bother you?"
Neville shook his head slowly. "No, of course not." He eyed Draco as he moved more into the room, his back rigid with suspicion.
He watched as Draco gave him a small smile and wasn't sure if he was intentionally pretending to be coy or if he was truly embarrassed in the new skin. He took a seat and gestured for Neville to do the same. Neville did and noted how masculine that gesture was. It would have been a bit out of character for Graces to do that.
"How's the project doing? Is the Willow thriving?"
Neville suppressed his surprise that Draco had apparently done his homework. He was beginning to realize that this wasn't a spur of the moment decision on Draco's part. "It's doing well. Planted and thriving."
"Good. And how's Abbott doing as your partner?"
"Good," Neville shrugged.
"Probably more helpful than me," he smiled sheepishly and Neville realized that he was very much trying to play a certain part. Interestingly enough he did have some characteristics of Graces down perfectly. She could be like this, sweet and shy, even unsure of herself in a way. He wondered what it meant that Draco seemed to think that this was the part Neville would want to see to… feel attracted? Let his guard down? It rubbed him a bit wrong.
"You were very helpful. Hannah's grand in that she can help a lot with doing stuff with the plant, but you always provided lively discussion and interesting ideas. And were quick to give your opinion," he added.
"Does that mean you miss me?" Draco teased, his knee nudging Neville's.
"Is that what this is about? Did you want to meet so you could ask if I missed you?" Neville asked, ignoring the flirtation altogether.
A bit of red colored Graces'—no, not Graces'—cheeks. "Are we no longer friends, Neville?" Draco asked quietly, no longer meeting his eye. "Did my leaving you as a Herbology partner ruin that?"
Neville frowned slightly at the question and stared forward, diverting his eyes away from him. How did he answer that? Graces wasn't a friend, not just. And, if Graces was still being careful with her brother, he supposed she would have told him the friendship ended as he wished it to. He thought about how he wanted to answer. Is this the time to make Draco aware?
"I consider you a friend," Draco whispered. "I mean, I've called you one before, to my brother at least. I was very sad to have to change partners, but I thought—no, Draco thought—it best at the time."
"We're friends," Neville confirmed quietly, the knot in his throat forming. "We're still friends."
Draco nodded. "I really needed a friend this year," he whispered, almost to himself. He opened the flask and took a sip, his thoughts apparently louder than he wanted them to be. Draco then turned to Neville and held out the flask, but Neville declined.
They just sat there in silence. This was all too weird. He didn't know what to say or do and he couldn't even look at the person next to him. It felt too wrong looking and seeing Graces but knowing it was Draco.
"Do—" Draco paused. "Do you still think of me?"
Neville frowned. "Erm."
"Do you fancy me?" Draco asked more bluntly, his gray eyes searching Neville's.
Neville turned away. A part of him wanted to tell Draco no, but he also wanted it known that he did. Maybe this would place the correct footing for later. He nodded, his mind still whirling with the matter.
"Can I ask why?"
Neville ran his fingers through his hair and blew out a long suffering sigh. "Lots of reasons."
"Top three," Draco requested.
Neville glanced over at him and licked his lips in thought. "You're smart," he shrugged. "But not like how Hermione is. You don't seem to care if you get approval."
"I care," Draco corrected, rolling his eyes clearly at some memory of his sister. "I just am unwilling to degrade myself trying to get it."
Neville's mouth twitched slightly at that. "You care a lot. Maybe not about everyone, but about people who matter to you. It's—I don't know. I like that about you. You love who you love and can damn the rest."
Draco peered at him skeptically for a moment, before looking forward in thought.
"What?"
Draco clicked his tongue softly, something he had never seen Graces do, before shrugging. "Just surprised you like that. Condone that. Doesn't that go against your—" Draco waved his hand idly. "Gryffindor-ness."
Neville laughed. "Maybe. Perhaps that's why I can't think like that. I imagine it's quite liberating."
"It's not."
Draco hunched over slightly and Neville could physically see the burden he must be carrying, loving the few he did and not knowing how to protect them.
"What's the last thing?" he asked.
The two things that Neville was truly torn between were her resilience and her selflessness, but he swallowed both answers.
"How ridiculous you are when it comes to sweets."
Draco snorted at that before a small laugh escaped him.
"It's really quite impressive how many chocolate frogs you can scarf down just going from one class to another," Neville commented, thinking about earlier in the year when he used to watch Graces load up on sugar before a particularly stressful exam or practical.
"Draco would say it's disgusting."
"Oh, sometimes it is," Neville nodded.
Draco did laugh at that, seeming to find Neville's agreement on the matter fun. After a moment though he grew quiet again.
"I haven't done that in a while," he murmured quietly, his fingers circling around the other hand's wrist and slowly dragging up to see how far it could go before some amount of fat stopped him. Neville reached out a hand and stopped him, his stomach turning at how far he was already able to get.
"This dress is old," Draco sniffed, Graces voice coming out of him thick and gravelly. "None of my clothes fit now. I had this dress I was planning to wear and… it just swallowed me. Everything was too big. I searched for hours trying to find something somewhat nice before I found this and it's from years ago."
Neville just closed his eyes, he didn't want to hear this. He wondered what it had been like for Draco to see though. He thought of how small and fragile Graces had become over the last few months, how sickly she was starting to look. She was doing better now, but there was a lot to come back from. It must have been shocking for Draco to see.
"And it's not like there was much in the chest to begin with," Draco continued, apparently at a loss for how this all happened. "But now… now there's nothing. You have more cleavage than she does."
Neville looked over at Draco and saw that he realized his momentary slip. He considered for a moment what to do before deciding to answer as if he didn't hear.
"Gee thanks," Neville scowled.
Draco blinked rapidly and shook his head. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"
"It's fine," Neville sighed.
"No, it's—this isn't going well," Draco huffed, moving his hands to his hair and then seeming to get frustrated when his hand found longer strands than what he was used to.
"How was it supposed to go?" Neville asked.
"Well I didn't plan to insult you," Draco said thickly. "And I certainly didn't plan to fall apart like this. I wanted to talk to—"
"Malfoy," Neville said patiently, his hand reaching and squeezing his shoulder and giving him a little of a shake. "It's fine."
Draco hesitated, but then nodded. Neville watched as he took a long sip from the flask and when he seemed done Neville plucked it from him and took a sip himself.
"I thought you didn't trust me."
"My need for a drink has outweighed my need for self preservation," Neville admitted, taking another much larger drink.
"This is really good," he commented after a while, examining the flask as if it would tell him something.
"It's my dad's," Draco admitted. "I had a house elf nick it."
Neville gave Draco a half smile and was about to point out that it's a son's long standing duty to steal his father's good alcohol, but caught himself. "He has good taste."
"Impeccable," Draco corrected, as though good were a dirty word when it came to this discussion. "He has the best whiskey collection and even a few barrels he's saving for certain special occasions: graduation, weddings, births," Draco waved his hand airly to say so on and so forth. "You get the idea."
"Is this from one of those barrels?" Neville asked.
"Believe it or not, Longbottom, my father didn't have an 'in case of incarceration and need to sway the opinion of someone my son has been an arse to for the last six years' barrel."
Neville's brows both were raised to his hairline at that. He took another sip and then offered the flask back to Draco rather than comment.
"You can keep that one, I have another," Draco murmured, taking a second flask out from beneath the dress. He took a sip and Neville noted the face he made as he forced himself to swallow.
Polyjuice.
"That's a lot of whiskey for a talk, Malfoy."
"It's a big talk."
"Guess we should start then," Neville pressed.
Draco shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know how to start."
"Would you like me to?"
"Not particularly." Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and took several breaths. "I just need a moment."
Neville waited and did his best to just pretend he wasn't there. Truth was he was nervous for how this conversation was going to go. If Draco was like Graces during an argument. If he was more vicious.
"Why haven't you responded to the Ministry yet?"
Neville pressed his lips together. He looked over at Draco—who right now was Graces. He knew, how could he not know and understand why he wouldn't answer right away. Draco maybe didn't know the full extent of his feelings for Graces, or her feelings for him, but he had seen how much Neville cared in October. He didn't feel an answer was needed and judging by the way Draco looked away it seemed the blonde somewhat understood now.
"Are you planning to not then?" he asked, his voice barely touching on hope.
"I am planning to think about it."
"Can I ask what you're thinking?"
Neville swallowed. "If you're safe."
"I'm not," Draco supplied, his voice tight. "I can guarantee you that I am not."
The twist his stomach made at that statement was enough to make Neville lean forward.
"Draco is failing," Draco continued on. "He's just not a good patriarch and he shouldn't be in charge of our family. Every decision he makes is awful and he is going to get me, himself and our mother killed."
Neville wasn't sure what to say. He wanted to tell Draco that wasn't true, that he was doing the best he could, but at the same time the situation was dire.
"Come with me," Neville begged. "Come speak to the headmaster with me. You and Draco, we could—"
Draco let out a dark laugh at the suggestion. "You can't be serious, Longbottom."
"I am serious. Dumbledore would help you, would help both of you and—"
"Albus Dumbledore is not a savior, Neville," Draco murmured, the one gray eye looking at him pitifully. "And he wouldn't help me or my brother, not if it couldn't benefit him. I'm going to tell you the same thing my father told me. Don't trust anyone to save you that isn't blood."
"I need my father," Draco implored, taking his hand. "Can you think of one thing my father wouldn't do to protect me?"
And there it was, the real reason Neville couldn't just write off allowing Lucius to walk free. There was absolutely nothing that Lucius Malfoy wouldn't do to keep his family safe. He thought about all he did just to ensure his family had status, how much he cared about the lineage he left behind. If Draco and Graces were gone, Lucius had nothing.
"Neville," Graces' voice whispered. Neville closed his eyes at the sound. It was perfectly like Graces, the pain in there, the desperation, the pleading. Draco couldn't fake that, not like this, that was as much him as anything. "I need my father. I-I need him to protect me, to protect Draco and my mother. Please."
Neville gritted his teeth, but he couldn't stop the tears from coming. "I know."
Draco reached out and caught a tear from his cheek. The action shocked Neville to the core and he turned to find the other boy pressing the moisture between his fingers staring at his sister's fingertips as though he didn't trust it. And for a moment it did feel like Graces and not because Draco was wearing her skin. The action reminded him so much of them in the beginning when she would hide away but she couldn't hide everything. The unsureness of the way Draco looked up at him now, the idea that Neville could be sincere, but the distrust of it. He was back in those moments in the classroom and the barn. It was her face staring at him and though he knew it was Draco, it felt like her in that moment.
Draco reached out and pressed his palm to the side of his cheek and Neville fought every impulse to move away.
"You do care don't you," Draco asked, Graces' one good eye narrowing.
"Of course I do," Neville swore. "How could I not?"
And before Neville knew what exactly was happening, before he could register what Draco's intention was the other boy leaned forward. Neville jumped out of his skin the moment Draco's lips touched his. He jumped back so quickly he banged his knee hard on another chair and almost fell back into the wall. By the time Neville recovered his heart was beating erratically out of his chest and his mind still was catching up with what just occurred.
Draco had stood and gone to him. Placing both hands on either side of his arm to try to calm him. "You don't have to be nervous. It's okay."
"No it bloody well is not!" Neville shouted, still trying to get a hold of himself at the same time moving away from Draco.
"I don't understand. We were having a moment and…and you like me, so—"
"I don't like you, I love you," Neville snarled. "I love you and this—THIS—is something I would never want."
"You don't love me, Neville," Draco whispered, his voice a mixture of pity and disapproval.
He really was so much like her. Neville had to hold himself back from brushing Graces' hair away from her face. He stood there just amazed by how much they truly were alike, how Draco's mimicking was not quite mimicking at all. The other boy didn't need to pretend, maybe for something he did, but in reality they acted and felt much the same.
"I absolutely do," Neville nodded thickly. "Which is why I would never want this. You do not want to be here. You do not want to kiss me or do whatever else you intended to do."
Draco turned away and let out a breathy laugh. "So noble," he scoffed, angrily wiping away his own tears. "I'm offering, Neville. You like me. We're friends. Why not?"
"You don't want to sleep with me," Neville reminded, his voice almost frantic. "You don't want to kiss me, or touch me. This is not what you want, that's why not. If we did it would just be… be coercion. It's violating," Neville surmised. "And you would not feel good after and I wouldn't either."
"I can assure you, Neville, that I will not feel that way. You have no reason to think that you are violating me. I am offering, so you don't have to feel bad at all," Draco shrugged. "We both get something we want."
"That is not what I want. You think that is how I would want something between us? You think I want that?" Neville asked, his distaste dripping from each word. He couldn't believe that Draco thought he would want this from Graces. Or that he would settle for this in hopes of a night with her.
Draco let out a spiteful laugh. "And what do you want, Neville? Courting? Formal courting? Marriage? Babies?" Draco waited for a reply, but when Neville refused he just continued. "I can't give you those things, Neville. Even if I loved you, I couldn't. You have no idea the depth of my family's ties in all this. None. If you did, you wouldn't even want to be in the same room with me."
"You're wrong," Neville breathed. "You're very wrong."
"I'm not," Draco swallowed. "We don't know each other very well. You say you love me? How? You don't know me."
"I know enough."
"Then what do you want? What do you think I can give? You love me? Fine. What is it exactly then that you want from me?"
The floor felt as though it could swallow him up at any moment. He missed Graces. He wanted nothing more than to actually be in the same room as her. Looking at this fake figure of her in front of him made him only long more for her familiarity. He should have never gone to this room. Why hadn't he just stayed with Graces at McGonagalls?
Neville looked at the boy in front of him and wondered how he felt in that body, how he came to terms with going through with this behind his sister's back, how he came to terms with being willing to sleep with him just for a shot at getting his father freed.
He thought about how Draco had gone about this, the mood he tried to create before deciding to try to seduce him. It was all poorly done, but Neville could see the plan. Wait for a moment, kiss him, sleep with him, and then what? Cry in his arms that he was scared? Beg him to save her? Neville felt his stomach twisting, but not in regards to how manipulative it was towards him, in regards to how desperate Draco must be.
They had been wrong to let this go on for so long. Draco needed information, he needed to know about them and he needed to talk with McGonagall and Dumbledore. Graces and he had done him a great injustice refusing to tell him things. He bit on his tongue to keep himself from begging for forgiveness right then and there. He was going to tell him, this was not going to go on any further, but he would do it right.
"I want to speak to Draco."
"Right, cause it's easier to say no to Draco. You don't like Draco."
"That is not true. How could you think that's true? I love you, how on earth could I love you and hate Draco? How?"
Draco just shook his head, his eyes glistening with tears. "Because of all the things I—he did to you."
"Forgiven," Neville quipped. "All forgiven. I think it was made very clear in October that I didn't resent him."
"You blamed him for October."
He had. Neville licked his lips and remembered how awful he had been to Draco. "I'm an arse sometimes. I was upset at the time and grossly naive about the world. October wasn't anyone's fault."
Draco looked down and Neville's heart sank lower as he realized how much those words must have meant to the other boy now.
"You didn't want to be his friend," Draco recalled. "Forgiven or not, you didn't want to be his friend."
"That is not true. I do want to be his friend. I just… I couldn't. I can't abandon what I believe."
"Right, so why would it be any different now?" Draco stood to leave.
"I need to talk to Draco," Neville whispered tightly. "I-I have to. Please, please. Just have him meet me here the day after tomorrow, I will do nothing until he and I speak. Okay? Please."
"What can Draco say to convince you that I can't?"
"You think I don't want to say yes? You think I want to keep your father away from you? You don't think I want to help you any way I can?" Neville asked. "I want to. I just… I need to talk to him."
"If you love me and won't say yes to me now, how will speaking to Draco help?"
"Malfoy," Neville begged. "Please have your brother meet me. Please." Merlin, they even argued the same way, a roundabout back and forth going to the same point again and again.
"Why not tomorrow?"
Neville swallowed. "I need a day."
"Why?"
Neville licked his lips. "To sort myself out a bit," he lied.
"To talk to your friends?"
"I will not talk to my friends about this," Neville swore. Draco scoffed at the declaration and Neville grabbed his hand tightly. "I won't," he swore again, forcing Draco to meet his eyes. "I know what they want, I don't need to hear what they have to say. I do want to speak to Draco though."
Draco searched his face for any hint of insincerity. "Okay."
"Okay," Neville nodded, breathing a few sighs of relief. "I will meet Draco here the day after tomorrow."
Draco gave a slight nod, but now seemed increasingly uncomfortable. Neville decided this was the best place to leave it and went for the door, his mind buzzing with all that had occurred. Then he paused.
"Malfoy," he murmured, turning back one last time. "This never happened. Do you hear me? This NEVER happened. You never came here, you never—" Neville let his words drop. "I never want to talk about this. As far as I'm concerned it never happened. We never met tonight. Understand?"
"I'm not ashamed."
"This isn't about shame. This isn't you, this is fear, and it never happened."
Neville waited for Draco to confirm and when he did he quickly turned and left. He hurried back to the Gryffindor dorms, wanting nothing more than to just crawl into bed and get his thoughts together. Or not think at all and finish up this flask he still had of Draco's so that he was so far gone that tomorrow morning Draco kissing him was the very last thing he needed to worry about.
Unfortunately for him when he entered Gryffindor tower he couldn't do any of that. It appeared that Harry had waited for him.
"Damn it," Neville cursed, looking over at Harry who raised up on the sofa where he was seated at Neville's entrance. Neville had to bite his tongue from whining that he just wanted to go to sleep.
Harry seemed to sense this and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I think we need to talk."
"Yeah, guess we do," Neville huffed, walking over and letting himself fall back in the chair across from Harry. Neither of them said anything at first. They both just sat in the quietness of the room, enjoying the familiar comforts they had each grown to love. Harry seemed to be searching for words and Neville was honestly too tired to help begin this little convo.
"Neville," Harry whispered, his voice tired. "You can't."
Neville supposed many words weren't really needed for this.
"No, I can't," Neville agreed, swallowing his own tears on the matter. "But I have to consider it. Because he gave her tea parties." Neville couldn't stop the tears from flowing as the realities of it all overwhelmed him. "And quidditch games. And while he is a monster to us all, he is god to her and every time something has happened she has cried for him."
Neville could hardly breathe as he thought of it all. "And I know why," he nodded. "Because she knows that he would never have allowed any of it. Never. Nothing stops Lucius Malfoy from protecting his family. There is no morality that holds him back and I think she knows she could never expect that from me."
"That's not true," Harry murmured. "I know you love Graces. I know you would do anything for her."
"Then I would do this," Neville gasped. "I would do this because I know in my bones there is no one better to protect her."
"She has people that will protect her," Harry assured. "Dumbledore, McGonagall… You. You're not leaving her defenseless."
Neville nodded. "I know. I keep reminding myself of it, honestly I think it's the only thing that is allowing me to make this decision. She's safe. It will hurt her, but she will be safe."
"She loves you, she'll understand."
"I think she will try to. I think she's trying now, but… but I don't know if she will be able to look at me the same." He turned to Harry. "We didn't have dads," he shrugged. "Not really. So we don't—" He paused. "We don't love someone like that. We were never protected and cherished like that. And I'm taking hers away so every moment in her life from here on out when she wants her dad she is going to be reminded that I didn't give that to her."
"This is not on you. You never—"
"It doesn't matter," Neville shook his head. "It doesn't matter. She can understand, but that understanding will not sit in her heart. Graces tries so hard to come off as detached, as cold and calculating, but she's not, Harry. She's all heart and emotion and whatever things she feels she feels deeply. I know she'll try and I think that's the most I can ask of her."
"I know I can't," Neville repeated. "But I must consider. I have to, Harry. I can tell you now that I am leaning towards saying no, but she deserves for me to think about it and I will think about it."
They talked for a little while after that, but nothing Harry said really stuck with Neville. He knew it all. His main concern was Graces and he knew that he couldn't make a move without talking to Draco. No was still where he was leaning, but without speaking to Draco, without knowing Dumbledore's plan for the twins to keep them safe he was not willing to keep Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban where he was useless to protect them. Graham was an arse, but his words rang more true to him than anyone else's. What were other people in comparison to Graces? He knew what the answer should be, but the longer he thought about it the more he realized everyone else was nothing in comparison to her.
I know it's been a long while since my last update. I had a lot going on. I am currently pregnant and due at the end of March :)