Chapter 114
Harry did not have a clue. He was realizing this more and more these days: how little he actually knew, how much he wasn't told. Dumbledore, The Order, Neville, it seemed everyone kept some secrets from him. He didn't understand it before. How he could be asked to hold responsibility for so long and yet not be trusted with information, not be listened to when he voiced concerns? Now though, he saw why trust may have been withheld from him.
He was an idiot. His temperament was rash, his mindset was obsessive and he too held secrets from those he should be entrusting. He didn't know how to approach the twins or how to apologize for what he had done. He stood outside the curtains closing the two Slytherins off, trying to figure out what he could possibly say or in what ways he could atone.
They may not even be up, he realized. Noting the late hour, he considered briefly coming back in the morning, but decided against it. If he couldn't speak to the twins, he at least wanted to see that they were okay. Maybe it would untwist one of the knots in his stomach.
He pulled back the curtain to find both twins unconscious, and judging by the rough look on Neville neither had awakened since the incident.
"Get out," Neville said coldly, briefly looking over at him before returning to his watch.
Another knot formed in Harry's stomach at Neville's harsh glance. It was yet another consequence of his foolishness. He wondered if Neville would hate him as he did Hermione now.
"Neville, I-I'm so sorry. I—"
"If you say it was an accident one more time, I swear on my magic I will bloody strangle you and there is no Pomfrey and McGonagall here to stop me this time."
Harry fell silent at the threat and fought the impulse to leave. "I really didn't know what the spell did, I—"
"To cut always," Neville interrupted flatly, his head not turning to look at Harry, just staring forward from his chair that was placed between both beds.
"Erm?"
"A majority of spells are in Latin. We use Latin Every. Single. Day." Neville lectured, his voice dangerous in its informative tone. "Sectum, to cut. Semper, always. Are you truly that daft as to not realize what that spell did?"
"I really didn't know," Harry implored.
Neville's jaw tensed and he shook his head. "I found out today that this spell in particular not only cuts the person, but causes severe hemorrhaging." He turned so his eyes met Harry's. "Meaning they bleed out quickly. It's designed to make them bleed out quickly, to kill them. They could have both died in minutes from the blood loss."
"How could I have known that?" Harry murmured. "I—"
Neville let out a noise of frustration and stood so fast the chair he had been sitting on screeched along the floor. "I shouldn't even have to bloody explain to you that you have no excuse for this! If you had been raised properly—and not by muggles—we wouldn't even be having this discussion."
Harry was momentarily taken aback by Neville's outburst and what it insinuated. "Neville," he whispered, still shocked that those words came from his friend. "You—you don't mean that."
"Don't tell me what I mean," Neville scoffed, shaking his head and moving around the chair. "I absolutely believe that. Because you would have known better than to use a bloody spell when you didn't know what it did! Every magical child raised in our world knows you don't use spells that you don't understand!"
"So I don't want to hear any more words like accidents, didn't know or any other bullshit excuse! You have lived and been in this world enough to know how bloody dangerous magic can be! You are not some naive muggleborn child being handed a wand! You're a grown wizard!"
Harry closed his eyes and looked down. There was truth in those words, he couldn't deny that.
"I can't believe you weren't expelled," Neville whispered, shaking his head.
"Neither can I."
Neville glanced up at him at that, his brown eyes still angry but softened ever so slightly.
"I can't talk to you right now," Neville shook. "And I certainly can't forgive you now, so please leave."
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and glanced at the silhouette of Draco sleeping in the dimness of the hospital and then over at Graces.
"I don't want forgiveness," he finally got out. "I just—I want to see if they will be okay, that what I did—" he was going to cry, he could feel the sting of tears coming. "I need them to be okay. I need them to know I am sorry, but not to be forgiven just… just so they know. I would give anything to take it back, Neville. Anything."
Harry had not noticed how tall Neville had become, how the boyishness of his face had left him, until this moment. He stood there in the darkness not with the same boy that had cried over losing house points all those years ago. That Neville had faded away it seemed and he was standing with the result of years passed. And this man was far harder, harsher around the corners of his eyes that just glared back at him.
"Too bad. You can't." Neville turned and looked over at Graces. "You need to leave. I don't want the first thing either of them see when they wake up to be you."
Harry wished Neville would just try to strangle him. He felt as though they could work through things easier if Neville were allowed to viciously rip into him. He was terrified of leaving now with Neville being so angry with him. He wondered if he had lost him in this. He couldn't blame him if he had.
He thought back to when he and Neville were in the dorm room together when Neville found him searching through the room for his potion's book in robes soaked in water and blood. It had been instantaneous, Harry had not needed to say a word. Neville had known the blood covering him was Graces'.
Harry was now responsible for some of the scars left on his friend. His friend who had confided to him that when Graces was not near—when he could not physically see that she was fine—that he worried. And now in his stupidity he had hurt her and made those fears once again true for him. He had forced Neville to feel those emotions of fear, worry, and grief all over again.
"I'm sorry, Neville," Harry whispered, turning to leave.
"Harry."
Harry turned, a small part of him relieved that Neville didn't say Potter.
"Keep away from Graham Montague."
Harry ran his hand through his hair uncomfortably. "Uh, yeah, okay."
"No, I'm serious, Harry. Do not get near Graham Montague."
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Draco stared at the boy sitting between him and Graces in the hospital wing. He had gone to school with Neville for six years and for the first time ever he wondered if he actually knew him. He had thought that Neville would have been beside himself with Graces in the hospital. He imagined him crying, holding her hand and quietly begging her to wake up. It was all a very annoying, melodramatic image. And yet, that was not the scene before him. Neville was sitting in a chair between both his and Graces' beds with his arms folded tightly across his chest and sleeping soundly. Draco studied his face, looking for signs of the person he thought he knew only to find he wasn't there. There was no puffiness about the eyes, no reddened cheeks from crying, and while he was not holding his sister's hand, he was holding his wand. Draco wondered if that was for protection against him.
In truth, Draco had been watching Neville for some time, though prior he hadn't been fully awake. He had still been somewhere between consciousness and sleep when he first noticed Neville in the room. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious, nor did he know what was known about what happened in the bathroom. Draco honestly didn't want to wake. He had a feeling that once he made it known he was no longer unconscious he would have to face a lot of new realities. The first reality to really strike him was the reality of Neville Longbottom.
He half awoke hours ago to find Neville standing over his sister's hospital bed. The Gryffindor had reached out and carefully, though not at all shyly, shifted the top of a bandage that was draped over Graces' shoulder and down to her chest. The act had been unnerving for Draco to watch, seeing someone be so sure of his own allowances to his sister's body, but Neville clearly was sure and Graces' words of "I love him" continued to ring in his head.
Draco wasn't sure what Neville thought of what he saw under the bandage. Neville's face had been unreadable. He stared for a long while, before quietly placing the gauze back where Pomfrey had originally dressed it. Draco thought maybe he had seen his jaw clench, but his own eyes couldn't stay open long and when he had reawoken Neville was asleep and the castle was dark.
And so he continued to stare at him through the darkness as the physical and mental toll of his situation weighed on top of him. He considered all the lies Graces had told him this year, all the ways she had kept him from seeing what was happening. He wondered if Neville had suffered any lies, or if Graces had given him all the intimate details regarding her life and by proxy his life.
Betrayal once again raked through him at the thought.
Graces loved Neville, she loved him enough to forsake their family and himself. Draco laid with a lump in his throat as he wondered what it was that Neville had that would make his sister want to risk the possibility of him never speaking to her again. He felt like there was an expanse of memories and understanding that one could never share with someone who had not grown up alongside them. It had made him feel as if their relationship was sacred, something that was ingrained in their core that no one could ever touch.
And she risked it.
He didn't understand, or maybe he didn't want to understand.
Maybe if it had been someone other than Neville he would have. He had understood when he thought she was with Graham. He had even been able to wrap his head around it possibly being Thomas, but Neville Longbottom? The bloke cried over everything, he could barely pass his exams, there was absolutely nothing about him to admire or respect.
Before, Draco would have admitted to him being good and genuine, but now that he knew why Neville had helped them he couldn't even give him that. Him coming to the Slytherin common room in October, helping Thomas get Octavian, punching Harry, everything was because he was sleeping with Graces. None of that was selfless. So why was she choosing him?
The sound of the bed shifting next to him quieted his thoughts. He closed his eyes as Neville sat up and listened to the quiet whispers of Neville calming Graces to lie down.
"He's fine. He's—"
"No, where is he, what—"
"He's right there. Look."
"You're fine," Neville swore, his tone gentle and in an odd way even to Draco reassuring. "Draco's fine. You both are going to be fine."
There was a long pause, before he heard Graces soft cries.
"It all happened so fast," she sputtered. "Harry—"
"I know."
Another silence.
"I don't want to talk about Harry right now," Neville said and even with his eyes closed Draco knew the other boy was furious.
"I told Draco," she whispered.
"You did?"
Was that relief?
Graces nodded. "Right before," she whispered.
"And?"
"He didn't take it so well," Draco answered coldly. A small bit of satisfaction came to him as Graces and Neville both jumped in surprise.
Graces tried to sit up as Longbottom gently protested, his hands pressing her shoulders to lay back down, but Graces refused, her eyes never moving away from Draco's as she slapped Neville's hands away.
"Draco, I—"
"What was the plan?"
Graces blinked wildly, her head tilting at the question.
Draco raised a challenging eyebrow. "Surely you two had a plan? You know what you would do if I refused to accept your relationship." Draco wrinkled his nose at the word and glared at his sister awaiting her reply. Graces looked down and he felt something tear into his very being at the look of shame she had. "Right." He could barely get the word out to speak.
He looked away from the two of them and closed his eyes. She was going to leave him. All their lives they had each other: Draco and Graces, the twins, the Malfoys, the Malfoy twins. People didn't even bother to separate them out from one another, and now in less than a year's time she could walk away from him. She loved Neville, it was now Neville and Graces, and he didn't have a place in that world. He was an outsider.
"Draco," Graces whispered.
He shook his head and kept his eyes tightly closed. He couldn't look at her and he could barely hold himself together at the pain of this betrayal.
"So that's it? You're going to leave, run off and… and live happily ever after with Neville Bloody Longbottom, eh?"
"No. No—"
Draco's eyes moved over to Neville.
"You want to know how I know you're lying?" Draco seethed. "Longbottom's face right there, showed so much betrayal. And I think it only flashed across his face because you promised if this went badly you would run away with him.
Graces bit her lip and seemed to be trying to think of a way to explain herself, or to shrink into the floor. "Draco, I love you. I—"
"And you love him," he sputtered tightly, angry that he couldn't keep the emotion out of his words like his father would have. He didn't want to be this raw and exposed, he wanted to at least appear cold. "So what happens now?"
There was a long silence and Draco turned to hide his face from them, willing himself to not cry. He hated her and he loved her and the two emotions did nothing but tear him apart. He wanted to stand up and scream at her and he wanted to beg her to not leave him.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I-I—"
He turned to her then, his face wet and eyes red. "I don't want your apology," he spat. "I want to hear the plan for all three of us."
Graces stared at him for a moment. "A plan for us?"
"Yes, a plan," Draco repeated. "You want to be with Longbottom here? What's the plan?"
Graces still said nothing, she seemed absolutely lost as to what he was asking. Draco let out a noise of frustration before moving to stand. It was harder than he anticipated getting up, but he somehow managed it in what he believed still made him look dignified. Neville had in that time stepped between the two beds, to which Draco rolled his eyes at before shoving the other boy to the side.
"You want to be with Longbottom? Fine," he spat contemptuously. "I accept, so now what?"
"You accept?" Graces asked, a slight frown touching her face.
Draco's eyes narrowed. "Want to know the difference between you and I? I could hate you, I think I do hate you right now. I don't believe anyone has ever wounded me so deeply as you this year. You have left me on my own. I have begged you to come back to me. To love me, to be there for me and each time you have given me empty promises and—"
"Draco, I—"
Draco held up a hand. "You will let me say my peace. No one and nothing has ever gone before my family. And the people I love. I have always loved you the most. Because you're not just family to me, you were my best friend. I needed you more than I needed anyone or anything this year. And you replaced me."
Draco swallowed and looked away from Graces' silent tears, but was only met with a look of deep pity from Neville standing at his other side.
"You may be able to leave me, Graces, but I could never leave you. You are my sister; I love you above all, so I accept. I accept that you betrayed me. I accept that you love him and since I still want to be a part of your life, I accept Longbottom into mine."
"Draco, believe me when I say we didn't mean for this to happen. I—"
"I do not have to accept your apology right now," Draco dismissed, moving back over to where his bed was and feeling slightly dizzy. Neville's hand came to his aid and Draco allowed the other boy to steady him as he moved back into his bed. He was slightly winded as he laid back down against the pillow. "Just tell me the damn plan."
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THEY HAD NO PLAN!
They had no plan! Bloody idiots. Bloody idiots in love! Draco damned both of them probably over one hundred times as he sat before Albus Dumbledore's desk. Fools. Fools fools fools fools. FOOLS!
He glared over at Neville. Fucking idiot.
"You… you want them to be spies?" Neville asked, his voice almost a whisper and his whole face draining of color.
Dumbledore gave a single solemn nod before turning back to him and his sister. Draco wondered if the grief on the man's face was truly sincere or if this was a mask he felt he should be wearing as he asked something so dangerous of them.
"Draco, Graces, I realize the magnitude of what I am asking and the burden it forces on the two of you, but we are not succeeding in this war. It thus far has not been a battle of might. It's politics, legal changes, back door deals. We need someone who has the ability to be in those rooms where these discussions are occurring and then siphon that information back to the order."
It was all so fucked up all Draco could do was laugh. Neville looked over at the sound, his face still shocked and in such disbelief. Draco just shook his head, Neville and Graces may be fools but he wasn't. He was expecting there to be some sort of deal like this. Dumbledore was trying to win a war and wars are not won without using what was at your disposal. Draco was in an impossible situation and the man sitting across the desk from them knew it. There was no way Draco was capable of killing Dumbledore on his own. The Dark Lord wanted him dead; this was not a mission given with hopes of his success, but a mission given to prove a point regarding power and how easily one could fall.
"They are sixteen," Neville exclaimed. "They can't—"
"Sixteen year olds that hold one of the most powerful names in the wizarding world and also hold a vast amount of wealth and power themselves"
"I hold no power," Draco said spitefully.
"You will, after you complete your task."
Draco's eyes narrowed.
"I'm dying," Dumbledore explained gently, pulling back his sleeve where Draco could see the cursed remains of his hand. "It won't be long before I leave this world, but if Voldemort believes that you completed this task, that Graces aided you in the completion of it, you both would become not only members of the inner circle, but highly regarded and entrusted members."
Draco held Dumbledore's eyes for a moment and could see clearly how well this would work.
"We set it up so it appears Graces helps me corner you and I succeed in my task of killing you," Draco surmised slowly. "And then with the success Graces and I would be free to move across both sides of the war?"
"To a degree," Dumbledore nodded. "I think it's best that only one person from the Order know of your true allegiance. We do not want to risk either of you being found out."
Draco's brow furrowed slightly. The idea of only one member knowing his and Graces' true allegiance seemed to be safest for during the war, but what about after?
"Absolutely not," Neville growled, standing up from his seat and grabbing Graces arm to stand with him. "This is… this is not some elaborate game of chess! They are not some pawns to be sacrificed!"
"No, they would be knights. They could save us all."
Neville could not hide his horror at those words. "We're leaving."
Graces looked up wide-eyed at Neville's command, but seemed too disoriented with information to do as requested at first. Neville began moving her towards the door, his arm around her shoulders as though he could protect her from one of the most powerful wizards the world had ever seen. In a way Draco pitied him.
"Neville, what are you—"
"We're leaving," Neville repeated again, practically pushing Graces out the door. "Go get Thomas. I'll stay here with Draco. We will go to the safe house tonight and—"
"Is this what it's to be?" Draco asked. "Longbottom orders something and you just obey?"
Draco held his sister's gaze, ignoring the way that Neville was looking at him.
"What do you want, Graces?" Draco asked. "Do you want to be hidden away with all of us for only the gods know how long? What happens if Potter fails? He's sixteen. Think. For once this year actually think. You want to live happily ever after with Longbottom? Then fucking fight for it. Stop waiting for things to just be given to you and actually fight."
He was right and she knew he was right. She stared past Neville at Draco, before taking a step back into the room. A step into her new life.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm fighting."
"No, no you're not."
She stared up into Neville's brown eyes, the eyes that honestly started this all. She gently touched his cheek, not ashamed of the intimacy she felt for him. "Yes, my darling, I am."
Neville shook his head, his eyes darting to Dumbledore and Draco. She could visibly see the desperation in him as his mind frenzied for a way to stop her.
"No, no. You can't… you can't do this, Graces. There is another way. You all can be safe at the safe house, I will ensure that I—"
Draco chuckled darkly. "Always the hero, eh, Longbottom."
"Piss off Malfoy! It's your arse I'm trying to save as well."
"I can save myself."
"This is madness," Neville cursed. "Graces, stop, look at me. Look at me." He was grabbing her face between his palms, forcing her to meet directly with his eyes. "This is madness. Draco is just—he's angry—rightfully so, but—"
Graces closed her eyes and shook her head at that notion. Neville didn't really know Draco, so of course he saw this as vindictive. "No, Draco's right. If I want this then I need to fight for this."
Neville's jaw clenched at her words. "We need to seriously discuss this. Let's go talk and then—"
"There is nothing to discuss, Neville," Graces breathed wearily, gently untangling herself from him and taking her proper seat next to Draco. She looked over at his matching eyes and she saw a semblance of respect return to his gaze. She reached for his hand and he actually took it. They were not good, she knew that, but they were at least united on this.
She looked back at Neville to find the other boy still by the door, his eyes staring at her and Draco's hands intertwined. She held out her other hand to him, but he didn't come towards her.
"We are supposed to make decisions together," he reminded, his voice broken and tight.
"Not this one."
She could see the wound her words caused him, but she only held Draco's hand tighter bracing herself to continue on.
"You can't be a spy, Graces. You… you can't do it."
She stared at Neville, disbelief coming to her. He did not think her capable of doing it. Draco gave her a look of true disgust and she flushed at what her brother was thinking, of how Neville was making their relationship look at this moment. He was scared, he had seen her at her weakest and lowest moments and he didn't think her capable. Draco didn't know how she was right now, how she was already cracking and breaking in areas of her sanity. Neville's apprehension was justified, his desperation to make her see in this moment wasn't born out of toxic masculinity, it was born out of hard nights, long days, and his own trauma.
"I have to, so I will," Graces whispered, imploring with her eyes for Neville to listen to her. "I could never stop you from fighting; you should not be trying to stop me."
"Graces, I am begging you," Neville whispered. "Please. Please."
"I'll be doing this with or without you," Draco murmured, his eyes never looking back toward Neville.
Graces concentrated on each breath she took as she looked over at Draco. She didn't know how to convey to him how sorry she was for this past year, how she would never abandon him again, because her words to him were useless. She had made them useless. She was never going to do that again. She gripped his hand tighter, finding strength in his returning grip.
"Neville, I think you should leave us while we speak to Dumbledore."
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He had lost. Neville stood there in the Headmaster's office as McGonagall fought desperately to change Graces' and Draco's minds, as she offered her own home to both twins only to have them both refuse. She fought as desperately as he had and gained absolutely no headway. He had woken her in the middle of the night for a battle that was already lost.
"Albus, this is insanity," the older woman finally proclaimed, her eyes turning to the Headmaster. "I told you that Graces Malfoy is in no way going to be able to do what it is you are asking. That her mind—"
"What do you mean "told him"?" Neville exclaimed, moving away from the bookshelf he had been leaning against.
He had never seen his head of house look the way she did at that moment. His eyes narrowed and another piece of him felt as though it were being ripped open in his belly.
"You should have told us," he whispered in disbelief. "How could you not tell us? I asked—"
"I was never going to allow—"
"I trusted you," Neville spat. "I convinced her to trust you and you—"
"Neville, I have not betrayed that trust," McGonagall proclaimed. "I would never have allowed this. I purposely was not allowing Graces to speak with the Headmaster to ensure he did not plant this ridiculous notion in her head. I—"
"You failed."
McGonagall looked as though Neville had physically struck her, but he didn't care. She had failed. Graces and Draco were now going to be spies for the Order, their every single day was going to be layered in lies, secrecy and danger. They would be navigating a minefield of dangers alone at seventeen.
He shook his head and knew what he had to do. "I am rescinding my testimony regarding Lucius Malfoy," he declared quietly, unable to believe the words that were coming from his mouth.
Graces and Draco both looked taken aback at his words.
"Neville," Dumbledore sighed, standing from his chair and moving over to him. Neville flinched as the older man put a fatherly hand on his shoulder. "I understand your fears and worries. Graces and Draco will be well protected, this I can swear to. Severus will be there with them. He will ensure that they are trained and—"
"Severus Snape can't even be bothered to be a decent godfather, he does not give a damn about either of them."
Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "I can see how you would feel that way regarding Severus. He can be a hard man to like; however, he does care deeply for the twins. He even made an unbreakable vow to their mother that should Draco fail he would finish the boy's task."
"He—"
Neville grunted and fell to his knees as pain shot to his chest. He didn't give a damn, Severus Snape was not going to be the one to protect Graces and Draco, he refused.
"Stop it, stop it!" Graces ordered, her hand tight around his mouth making it even harder for Neville to gain the breathes he needed.
"I am aware of what occurred in October," Dumbledore informed quietly, apparently knowing that the unbreakable vow Neville was trying to break was regarding Graces' incident then.
There was a long silence at Dumbledore's words. He knew? He had let Graces lay in the dungeons, hurt and on death's door that whole week? He hadn't gone to her? Hadn't taken her to St Mungos? He had just—
Neville was so shocked from that information he hadn't even realized that it was Draco helping him back up to his feet. He met the other boy's eyes and swallowed the sickness coming up in his throat at his expression. Draco wasn't surprised by any of this. Neville had thought he would be the better one to help Graces, and thus help Draco, but he had been wrong. Draco had always known what was better for them. He had always known better than to trust anyone outside of family. He had told him so the other night and Neville in his naivete had decided otherwise.
He wanted to beg the other boy for forgiveness, tell him how sorry he was that he had done this to them, tell him he would take it all back, but instead he just repeated that Lucius Malfoy was going to be released.
"Neville, releasing Lucius Malfoy into this war will harm all the effort we are trying to make now. The man is not only a powerful wizard, but a well connected one who carries much influence in the ministry and the pureblood circles. That is without mention of wealth."
Neville laughed darkly. "He's also bloody savage when it comes to his children. You want to win this war, every member of the Order wants to win this war. That is their goal. Lucius' goal is to ensure his legacy. And they—" Neville gestured his chin at Draco and Graces "—are his immortality. He would not risk their lives."
"He may not risk Draco's," Dumbledore conceded.
Neville narrowed his eyes at that presumption. "He would not risk either of them," Neville said contemptuously. "Do not pretend to know him."
"I must say, Neville, I am very disappointed in your decision."
"I'll get over it," Neville scoffed, recovering enough to stand up straighter. Draco had not released him and he found the other boy staring at him pensively as he returned to his height. Draco held him a moment longer, before moving away from him, his gray eyes still not trusting, but slightly less foreboding than earlier.
Neville flushed slightly and then turned to McGonagall. "I wish to join the Order. If Graces fights, I want to fight."
McGonagall shook her head. "No, the Order and it's members are—"
"I am fighting with or without the order," Neville cut off. "Do not leave me out of this. If she is fighting I need to be fighting."
"I would advise you to not allow people to know about your relationship with Miss Malfoy," Dumbledore cautioned. "That information in the wrong hands as she works for the Order could get her killed."
"The Order doesn't need to know about our relationship in order for me to be a part of it," Neville snapped. "Besides, it will make it easier for me to get information from them to her, and vice versa. She and I—"
"Graces and Draco are not going to be privy to all the information the Order has," Dumbledore explained. "It's too great a risk to the war efforts."
"You want them to spy for you and yet you do not trust them?"
"The concern is if we are being tortured," Draco stated with a tone of amusement, as if Neville should have thought of that himself. "If we don't know all the information then we can't have loose lips regarding it when we're losing our minds in pain."
Neville briefly wondered if Draco used that phrase to purposely twist a knife in an old wound, but chose to ignore it completely.
"I still want to join," Neville proclaimed.
Dumbledore surveyed him for a moment. "What exactly do you think you can do for the Order?"
"I can hold my own," Neville seethed. "I did fight in the Ministry, if you don't recall."
"As did Harry, but we did not allow for him or Miss Granger or Mr Weasley to join."
"That's bloody stupid," Draco scoffed. "They're doing all the fighting as it is. Why would you not allow them to join?"
Dumbledore seemed to be politely ignoring Draco's retort as he watched Neville.
"I don't care what you allowed them," Neville growled. "I am joining."
"I do not want Miss Malfoy or Mr. Malfoy to be known to all the Order members. We need to keep them safe and—"
"Are they not a part of the Order? Won't they be spies for the Order?" Neville asked. "I want to be a part of it as well and if you refuse to allow me this then I will find a way to be a part of this. No one is going to stop me."
"I understand and respect your passion, Mr. Longbottom, but the answer is no."
Neville blinked. He felt helpless, he searched his mind for a retort or some threat to—
"Neville being in the Order could prove useful for Draco and I," Graces pointed out, her manner and voice far more poised than what he was used to. He forgot she could be like this, she had become so informal with him and even with McGonagall lately.
"I do not think the Order will look too kindly on Neville after he allows Lucius free," Dumbledore said gently. "If perhaps Mr. Longbottom is willing to reconsider—"
"Lucius Malfoy is going to be freed," Neville practically hissed. "Consider it already done."
Dumbledore gave a slow dip of his head. "And I cannot allow you entrance into the Order."
Neville shook his head. He wondered if Dumbledore knew about him and Graces before this, if he had planned this all along. He felt as though the man before him held the twins in his grasp and Neville had led them both right to him. Why had he been so stupid? Why had he—
"Neville," Dumbledore sighed. "Hiding Graces and Draco in plain sight keeps them and theirs safe. All the other alternatives risk maybe not their lives, but the lives of their loved ones. They cannot go missing in this war, not with how much their father was involved with Voldemort's inner circle. They will be safe. All they will do for the Order is give us information. Their mother, aunt, and godfather are all respected by Voldemort and Death Eaters. After they complete the task set forth by them they will also—"
"You have your spies," Neville sneered. "I refuse to stand here and listen to you try to justify putting children in such a dangerous situation."
"I do not want you leaving here thinking—"
"That you use children to win your wars?" Neville finished, his face turning flush with his emotions.
"Perhaps it's best if you wait outside while I speak to Mr and Miss Malfoy."
"Neville is not going anywhere," Graces said simply.
"If that is both of your wishes," Dumbledore conceded, looking over at Draco.
Draco fixed his gaze on the older man, but did not argue for Neville leaving and Neville thanked the gods that the other boy hadn't.
"Who will know about our position in this war?" Draco asked directly. "After you are gone, that is."
"McGonagall, Snape, and obviously Mr. Longbottom here."
Graces and Draco each pressed their lips together in dislike.
"That's not very many," Graces pointed out.
"If McGonagall should fall our only Order contact would be gone."
"I agree, Albus, it seems a fatal flaw to only have Severus and I know."
Dumbledore went quiet for a moment. "I believe that the Order shouldn't be as trusted with such information. It's too great a risk; I also feel that Severus could easily lead both twins in this war without the Order. There are a great many things that we cannot allow for people to know in regards to what is happening in this War."
Neville scowled.
"What things?" McGonagall asked, stepping forward.
There was a lot of back and forth after that. Neville's head was pounding with an endless series of information that was all left unfinished. Dumbledore was hardly telling them anything and from the look on his Head of House's face she also was shocked at the lack of information they were receiving from the older man. What was made clear was Harry was going to be the important factor in this war. Neville wondered how much Harry knew, he had a feeling based on a few things said that while Harry was in the know, he also wasn't fully submerged in all the details.
"This could go all night," Draco finally groaned, putting his head in his palms. "I can't do this more tonight. We agree to be your spies, we can negotiate and plan the rest in the coming weeks, but right now I need to be done with this."
Graces reached to touch her brother, but Draco stood away from the touch.
"One thing I want to make clear though is this. More people are going to know about our true roles in this war. We're telling Potter, Weasley and Granger."
"I am going to advise against that. Again, it's—"
"Dead men don't make great advisors," Draco pointed out, his lips curling slightly in a way that turned his face to more of his father's. "Potter is bloody relentless—"
"As is Granger," Graces muttered under her breath.
"If he is not in the know he will make my mission, your mission, almost impossible to achieve," Draco continued. "He will continue spying on me and either by his hand or by way of another get me killed."
Dumbledore sighed. "Harry will be spoken to in regards to—"
"Harry will fucking be told!" Draco bellowed, slamming his hand against the wood of the Headmaster's desk. "He almost bloody killed me. He almost killed my sister. You wouldn't even have spies to utilize if it were not for Snape being there because we would have died in that bathroom."
"Furthermore, if all we are doing is gathering and giving information it makes it exceptionally hard post-war to prove our innocence. I don't want to be in the same position as my father, defending myself to the wizarding world when in actuality I truly was on the side against the Dark Lord. Harry Potter being in the know, working with us, will allow us to actually have a life after the war and not be shipped away to Azkaban to rot."
"Is that clear?" Draco asked, his voice barely a whisper. Neville stared unsurely at Draco as he waited for Dumbledore's agreement. He wondered if this was a part of Draco or if this was a mask he knew how to wield like Graces did? Draco rose up from the desk, his gray eyes flicking over to Graces briefly before he headed towards the door.
Graces followed closely after Draco as he left the Headmaster's office. Neville awkwardly hurried to catch up with them, not knowing the subtleties of how the twins knew what the other was up to. He looked back at the door to Dumbledore's office and saw that McGonagall had not followed them. He wondered what discussion she was having with him, whether they were discussing the twins, him, or if she was trying vainly to get him to see how reckless this all was. Maybe she would convince him to not ask this of them? His mind was rolling with possibilities, but he no longer felt anything.
He felt numb from what his body knew was too much to feel. A spy. That word put so many images into his head and none of them were the ones that Dumbledore was trying to paint for him. This was not selfless bravery, this was insanity. His head was clouded with a mess of new information and he couldn't sort through one more bit of it.
"Neville," Graces whispered, turning around at the bottom of the staircase so quickly he almost collided with her. "I should like for us to be joined, preferably a few days after I turn seventeen, but I am willing to wait until after your birthday as well."
"Joined," Neville repeated, his mind not quite connecting the meaning of that word at first until suddenly it did. "You… you want to be married?"
Graces nodded, her silver eyes staring up at him waiting for his answer.
She couldn't actually mean for them to be joined. She couldn't— "Graces, we're sixteen, even if we waited til after my birthday we would only be seventeen."
"I know," she nodded. "The thing is, though, I don't know how many years we are going to have."
Neville shook his head. "No, don't talk like that. Don't—"
"I am telling you exactly what we are all thinking. I am being practical. I am sixteen and a spy. Even if we factored out the dangers of just being a spy and what would happen if I am found out, there are still the dangers of just working as a Death Eater. What are the odds I am going to live to see eighteen?" she asked imploringly, droplets of tears escaping her. "And I know you, you are going to fight as well… more now, because you are not the kind to stand by while I risk my life. You are going to fight just as hard, maybe more. What are the odds, my love, that we both make it out of this war alive?"
"Graces," Neville implored. "We're—"
"You don't have to answer now." Graces cut him off, shaking her head and practically begging him to not speak more. "But please think about it. I love you and… and I want to be your wife, no matter how little time there may be for us. We should have this, Neville. We should be together. I should be yours and you should be mine so if one of us falls we will have that. I don't want to fight for us to be together knowing that we may never live to see a day," she cried passionately. "I want to have our ending and if we get more, wonderful, and if we don't, we have this. Let this be a fight for more time and not a fight for what could be."
"We don't have to be husband and wife to have the time together, Graces. We can just—"
Graces moved out from under the hand he reached towards her, so that she was a good distance apart from him. "Do you really not understand what I want, Neville? I want more. I want… I want us to be family. I want to be your family. I I want you to know what you mean to me. I want to be with you for whatever time we have left as your wife."
Neville looked over to Draco who was standing there wide-eyed watching this disaster occur. The other boy looked over at him and Neville could practically hear his thoughts. Don't do this. Be sensible. Don't.
"If you say no I will understand," Graces whispered tightly, gaining his attention back to her. "But this is my wish."
Neville stood there torn between taking her hand and telling her it was his wish as well and shaking her until sense came back into her head.
"Soon after your birthday?" Neville repeated.
Graces gave a small nod.
"I don't even know when your birthday is," Neville admitted, the churn of panic in his stomach turning more.
Graces just smiled. "It's June 5th."
"That's in a few weeks! We'll still be in school!" Neville exclaimed, some of his panic seeping out. "We won't even be on break we—"
"I said we could wait til your birthday as well," Graces reminded. "And, well, no one has to know. No one should know, it would be—"
"This is madness," Draco called out, apparently getting over his own shock now.
"It is," Graces agreed, turning and giving her brother a look that reminded Neville strangely of Hermione, hostilely determined. "But I am madly in love with you, Neville, so I'm asking. Will you be joined with me? For whatever time we have—little or long—will you have it with me?"
** I know that the readers I have on this platform have been with me the longest and waited the longest for these moments. Draco finally knows, the twins are both choosing a side, etc. I hope the chapter didn't disappoint 3