Chapter Five
"Are you and your Uncle finished going through the contract?" Draco asked, taking his seat at the breakfast table—which was also the dinner table, the lunch table, the tea table and basically the only table.
Neville looked up at him and Draco tried not to laugh as he could visibly see Neville's brain slowly processing his words.
"Not yet," he yawned while taking a sip of tea.
"There is no point in doing any rituals if we cannot agree on the contract."
"We will agree on the contract," Neville nodded dismissively.
"Have you at least read through it all? Actually read through it, not skimmed it like you Gryffindors like to do, but—"
"Draco," Neville said with forced patience. "It's five in the morning and this—" he gestured between the two of them. "—can't happen for another three hours at least."
"Maybe if you took a break from the house then you could get through the contract."
A wry smile. "No need to fuss, Malfoy, I'll get to the contract, but today I intend to make this place more livable."
"Good luck with that," Draco mumbled sardonically. When Neville didn't take the bait, the blonde just glared at the other boy. Neville though seemed happy to ignore this. He continued sipping his tea and eventually started pulling the notes he had been writing down through the week over to him and began writing a few more things on the paper. Draco had attempted to read through the sorry excuse for penmanship, but gave up. What he had gathered was that one paper was a list of supplies, another was measurements (he couldn't tell what for as it seemed to be a number of things that Neville didn't bother to label), and the third was some outline of ideas. All stuff for the house which Draco barely saw any progress on.
"When will I be getting the Longbottom contract?" he demanded.
"There won't be one it seems," Neville shrugged, jotting down something in the margins of one of the papers.
Draco yanked the paper out from under his quill causing a huge amount of ink to stain vertically down the sheet and onto the table. Neville looked up, a measure of anger behind his surprise, but didn't say a word, just gestured with his hands in frustration.
"Really, Malfoy?"
"I have to have that contract. We are supposed to be exchanging contracts! This is—"
"We will go with your contract and make adjustments."
"My contract is regarding protecting Graces in this marriage, yours is supposed to be what lets us—her family—know what your expectations of her will be in this marriage. In this joining. Our families are joining," he stressed again angrily. "And I would like to know what that dynamic entails. What life my sister is going to be agreeing to. Damn you for thinking it's not important. I don't know you, and I want guarantees."
Neville's eyes shifted and for a moment Draco actually felt embarrassed for his outburst.
"I have no expectations for your sister," Neville said quietly. "I—that's the reason there is no contract. My Uncle and I couldn't quite agree. I read the one my family uses and—" He paused and seemed a bit uncomfortable. "I am not comfortable with it."
"Why?"
Neville's brow quirked up for a moment and he ran a hand through his hair. "A lot of the contract centered around there being children and I don't think that's appropriate."
Draco rolled his eyes. "You're guaranteed children with that ring. This sounds standard, unless there is more you're not telling me."
"Her home, access to vaults, many things would be dependent on if she has a child. I don't think that's okay, it's actually controlling when you really think of it. Have a child within this many years or not be allowed to the family vaults, your home that I gave you can be taken away if no child has been born by—"
"This all sounds standard."
"Yes, well, that's what my Uncle said too." Neville sighed uncomfortably. "But I am the patriarch now and it will not be going forward in my family," Neville declared, moving to take the parchment Draco had back. Draco didn't allow it though, he moved it so it was now on his lap far away from reach.
"I'm not done with this conversation," Draco said quietly, his eyes steady on Neville. "When do you want children? Part of having it written out is also so you can't demand whenever. Or—"
"I don't care about having children," Neville said. "I'm sixteen, I'll barely be seventeen when we get married."
"You're also the last of your family and the patriarch, so you need to care."
Neville shook his head. "No, I don't. I don't care about having children for those reasons. My family can die out, that is not a concern of mine. I care about being ready when and if Graces and I decide to do that. I want to get through this war then have years with Graces where it's just us, no children. During that time I want to work on my career, do more with this house, because Gods know it will still need a lot of work, and let Graces focus on becoming a healer. Which if I had to choose between children and her being a healer that is what I would want."
"I think she would disagree."
"Yes, but would she disagree because she genuinely wants that for herself, or because she has had it engrained in her that she is supposed to have children to carry on another family of the Sacred Twenty Eight?" Neville said the last part with so much disdain that Draco could feel his features darkening.
"Come on, Draco. Even you and I have had it pushed down our throats that we have to have children. Do you think that's right?"
He swallowed. "I have a duty to my family, just as you do. We are supposed to have children for our legacy and to continue this world. I intend to continue the Malfoy line. We are dying out, Longbottom. In case you have not noticed there isn't an abundance of witches and wizards. Add this war to the mix and there will be fewer. If either of us choose to not have children we also just killed off a whole ancient line of witches and wizards for selfish reasons."
Neville stared at him with a mixture of distaste and pity. "I don't know where to begin."
"You're a patriarch just like me. We don't get the luxury of living our lives for ourselves. We're supposed to live it for our family and I want my family to continue and thrive."
"That's what you want?" Neville asked. Draco knew exactly what it was Neville was not just thinking about, but worried about. Real concern and bewilderment was etched on his face as he asked the question.
Draco sneered. "Not all of us at this table only derive happiness from our own selfish wants and needs. I am more happy and satisfied serving my family and their needs. I love being a Malfoy. I love our history and our legacy and—"
"And you love men," Neville interrupted.
"I do not love men. I am attracted to men," Draco spat. "There is a difference."
Neville made some face as if he had just drinken something distasteful, but was trying not to show how much he disliked it. He wrestled with his thoughts for a bit longer before looking back at him with a mixture of horror and deep pity.
"Draco—"
"You know what, I am done with this conversation. We are not friends, or anything really yet. We may be family, though, and you should be nothing but grateful at how much that matters to me. Because if I didn't care so very much about my family, or if I did what you're suggesting and put my happiness first, I sure as hell wouldn't be in this fucking dump of a shack spending my nights sleeping on a mattress on the floor with a shower that doesn't even spray water out efficiently. Now if you'll excuse me I am going to return back to Snape's house and train to be a spy. Again, because I love my family enough to risk my fucking neck for them."
If there was one thing Draco did like about this sad excuse for a home it was that when he slammed the door it seemed the whole place shook. It was a small satisfaction in a sea of dissatisfaction. He apparated outside of Spinner's End and the heaviness that he felt seemed to intensify. He didn't want to train, to have Severus in his mind, or be trying to attempt to get into his. He just wanted to go home.
"Draco?" Graces opened the front door and was lingering watching him from the step. "Is everything okay?"
"What's your definition of okay?" Draco scoffed.
"Are you okay?" Graces asked, her eyes evaluating him carefully.
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
"Your betrothed and I are not getting along too well at the moment," Draco sneered, pushing past her and entering the house.
Graces followed on his heels. "What happened?"
"I have a lesson," Draco reminded, heading towards Snape's room.
"He's not here, your lesson isn't for another hour. What happened between you and Neville?" Graces repeated, her face looking desperate for answers.
"You're marrying a man that holds none of the same values we hold," Draco snapped, slamming Snape's door shut when he realized what Graces said was in fact true and he was not there.
"Did you think you were going to convert Neville to believing in blood purity?" Graces scowled. "Merlin, Draco, I know you don't know him well, but surely you realized—"
"He doesn't believe in family. In tradition. In duty," Draco stressed. "He's selfish."
"Oh," Graces murmured simply, giving pause in the discussion and folding her hands quietly in front of her as though she were not surprised by Draco's statement. "I know that Neville can come off as insouciant, but he's not. He just—" She let out her own exasperated huff. "You'll see. As you continue to get to know him you'll see. He does hold values in all of those things, he just shows it differently."
"Maybe I don't want to get to know him," Draco hissed, the lie rolling off his tongue easily. "Maybe I would rather live a life where I do not have to twist and rearrange myself in order to understand and accept your future husband and your choices."
"I am not asking you to," she reminded me. "You are the one that for some reason derives all your happiness from duty. You always have. You act as though family duty is the only thing that can truly bring contentment."
"Too bad I can't say the same for you," Draco sneered.
"What duty do you want me to fulfill, Draco?" She asked, searching his face. "What is it you want from me? Do you really want me to bow to The Dark Lord? Give my true allegiance to the same man that gave you a task you were not supposed to succeed in? That beat me within an inch of my life? That hurt you, mother, and slaughtered the Higgs clan?"
"Or did you want me to stand aside as you gave your allegiance out of fear? Stand by and marry Graham Montague for my safety. Play house while you are made into a servant for a psychopath who kills children? Is that really what you feel my duty in all this should have been? Or is it just my duty to listen and obey?" she challenged. "Is that my true offense?"
"You abandoned me," Draco reminded. "You were the one that kept secrets, that—"
"I kept Neville a secret, because he was never supposed to be significant. And I have apologized and tried desperately to explain multiple times. And I am willing to do all that again if you're actually willing to hear me."
"You think I didn't hear you?" Draco asked, a cruel laugh bursting out of him. "I heard you, Graces. And I believe it all. I. Believe. It. All. I just don't know how to forgive you."
They stood there in the hall together at a loss for what to say or do. They were lost at sea together with different boats and neither knew how to get to the other.
"Draco, please," Graces begged, her eyes filling with tears. "I love you. I miss you."
"I love you," Draco acknowledged. "I miss you too. But I can feel those things and still hate you for this."
"You broke us." He shook his head, still not able to believe she could do this. "I believed we could tell each other anything. I thought no matter what we would always have each other. You talk about how I only care for duty and family, because what could matter more than family? What could make me more happy and content then the ones I truly love being happy and safe? What is life without you all?"
"Just because I fell in love with Neville does not mean that I do not share the exact same feelings as you. I never wanted to hurt you, Draco. I also twisted and rearranged myself to fit what I was supposed to be and how I should feel to avoid hurting you. I do not want us to be broken and I know I broke us, but you have to let me try to repair this. We have to talk."
Draco knew she was right and he even knew on some level that he was being unfair, but every time he even considered meeting her half way he thought about everything he had done and was even now doing for her. And the bitterness and resentment took hold of him.
"I just can't," he choked, pushing Snape's door open and deciding to hide out there until Snape came home for his lesson.
The silence of the room rang in his ears and he could hardly breathe for fear of sobbing. He closed his eyes and practiced what Snape had been teaching him, categorizing his emotion into deep Occlumency pools and sinking it slowly down until he felt it less and less. In the end he was left hollow, numb, and exhausted.
Maybe that is why hours later he awoke lying in Severus' bed. It didn't feel real at first, he thought perhaps he was dreaming. He certainly would not have been so bold as to lie down on his Professor's bed. He tried to remember what he was doing previously and did remember sitting at the other man's desk. He had considered using Snape's pensieve to help clear his thoughts, but when he saw there were memories currently in there he put that idea away. He didn't want to disturb whatever memories Snape had left there, so he started reading one of the books that were laid out.
He sat up, still confused as to how he ended up in the bed, and then saw Snape staring at him from the corner of his room that held his armchair, a long parchment in hand.
"You are fine to continue sleeping," the other man murmured, returning back to his reading. "No lesson today."
"I'm fine," Draco flushed. "I don't need to be coddled. I'm ready to work."
"You have slept through your lesson," Snape informed him, nodding to the clock showing that the hour was now late. "You've slept through the whole day actually. Forgive me if I am not so willing to deal with teenage angst at this hour. There will be no lesson today."
"Do I no longer have a bed here?" Draco demanded, ignoring Snape's comment.
Snape looked up a dangerous look taking his features. "Let's change our tone, Mr. Malfoy. I am not your mummy, I do not have to tolerate your cranky mood post nap."
Draco bristled at the slight, but actually did feel badly about his behavior.
"I'm not ungrateful," he muttered, shifting in the bed. "I appreciate—"
"You can appreciate my help in silence," Snape muttered, going back to his reading. "Sleep more if you like or leave. I do actually have things to do."
Draco considered. It actually felt quite nice to sleep here. Snape's home felt safe. He couldn't imagine anyone coming to hurt him here, Graces was also close by and that brought with it a strange comfort, and if he was being honest he felt at ease here. There didn't need to be any pretending with Snape. The man had literally seen all of him and was still his guardian. It was almost freeing.
"Very good." Draco glanced up and saw Snape watching him pensively. "If you can guard your thoughts and your facial expression like that you may live to see eighteen."
"Won't that be a celebration," Draco said wryly.
"I'll bake a cake."
Draco snorted a laugh, the idea of Snape making him a cake absolutely hilarious.
"If for no other reason I'll live just to witness that."
Snape smiled slightly in quiet amusement, before taking a quill and writing something down on the parchment he was holding. Draco stood and found his shoes in a corner by the door.
"Can I ask a favor?"
"If you must."
Draco swallowed nervously. "We, erm, need some potions for the ceremonies. It's quite a bit, and—"
"I want no part of your sister's nuptials."
Draco turned at Snape's words. "You won't be attending?"
"Surely, I am not—"
"You are," Draco cut off, slightly distressed. "You're our godfather. Her godfather. You are supposed to be there."
"Your real father should be there," Snape corrected, a hard look being directed at Draco at his words.
"But he can't be. You can."
"I highly doubt your sister and Mr. Longbottom want me in attendance."
"Ask her," Draco challenged, knowing that at the end of the day Graces— despite the things they had said earlier—did believe in duty. Regardless of her feelings for Snape, she would know he was to have a place there and expect him to be.
Snape's eyes narrowed, but Draco kept his guard up. The other man seemed annoyed at his skill more than happy and went to the door and called for Graces. Draco quietly moved so Graces would not see he was still there, but he was able to see her slightly through the crack behind the door.
"I will make the potions needed for your ceremonies," Severus declared curtly. "Do not order anything from the apothecaries. I do not want a trail of evidence following you or your brother. Do not have Neville or anyone in his family order them as well."
Graces blinked. "Thank you, sir."
"I will also allow you some time after where you do not need to train with me, and a few days before where you also will have a small break. So we won't be seeing one another for about a week. During this time I still expect you to continue training and practicing. Understood?"
Graces frowned slightly. "I'll still see you at the wedding though, correct?"
Draco breathed a sigh of relief at his sister's question and waited for Snape to answer.
"Yes."
"Will you be at the ceremonies leading up?"
"No, I have other things to attend to and do not wish to be a part of them."
"Okay," Graces voice was quiet, but accepting. He heard her footsteps retreat back to her room and Snape came back in a blank expression on his face.
"You will be helping me with the brewing," Snape informed him sourly.
Draco nodded and was careful not to smile.
Snape must have sensed it though, because his next words were 'off with you' and the door was slammed shut behind him.
He actually felt significantly better knowing Snape would be there at the wedding. He wondered if it would make Neville uncomfortable and grinned at that thought. He really didn't want to return back to Neville's. He suddenly remembered how things were left earlier. He wondered if maybe Neville went to bed; he did tend to go to sleep early so he could wake up early.
He saw the kitchen light was still on when entering and was flooded with disappointment. He considered going back to Spinner's End, but then realized if he did he would have to be in the same room as Graces. Thoughts of the manor came and went. Greyback was constantly there and had a habit of roaming the halls at night. It was unsettling to say the least.
He let out a breath, mentally preparing to see Neville, before heading towards the kitchen where the other boy sat, still at the breakfast table where Draco had left him earlier.
"I read the contract. Really read it, not skimmed like a Gryffndor," Neville laughed nervously. " I… I would like to say I read it like a Ravenclaw, but there were a few things I didn't understand and, well, I took notes so you could explain it better to me. I also—"
"You're supposed to do that with your family," Draco pointed out, not moving from the door. "Then we're supposed to have meetings between the families and go through any changes or negotiations."
Neville blinked and looked down at the long, scrolling parchment surrounding him, his golden lashes glinting in the candle light, before his eyes turned back to him. "We're almost family. I think you and I can go through it together. No need for others."
Draco scoffed. "I doubt your uncle would feel that way. I am sure he wants to be involved. He came to the first meeting and he came to discuss the contracts—well, contract, since we only had mine—for the first time. You really want to leave him out of this?"
"You don't get your father. You have to do this on your own. Maybe I should too. We can do it on our own together."
Draco didn't know what to say. He looked at all the parchment and ink stains on the other boy's fingers and that hopeful look on Neville's face and felt oddly validated. He had been going back and forth with Neville in the short time he had come to be staying with him. Some days they were coldly civil, some days warmly civil, other days he couldn't seem to stop himself from taking every opportunity to make jabs at the other boy, and Neville always bore it gracefully. Draco wondered if maybe Neville's interest in the house wasn't just in getting it ready for Graces, but to avoid him and his bad attitude. And yet, that didn't seem like Neville now that he really thought of it.
"Okay," he said lamely. He awkwardly took a seat and gingerly picked up a parchment scroll that seemed to have the most writing on it.
"You don't like the dowry," he said slowly.
"I don't like dowries," Neville stated firmly. "You don't need to pay me to marry your sister. It's fucking weird."
Neville's eyes flicked to him before going back down to the parchment. He could feel his temper flaring and reminded himself that he wanted to try. Neville clearly was willing to make an effort and he could do the same.
"Graces is accustomed to a certain standard of living, and—"
"Right, and as I wrote here the dowry could just be given to her. For her vaults."
Draco nodded and was silent for a long time before deciding to speak. "There is a power imbalance when it comes to money and marriage. Something my family unfortunately has to think of. When one person in a marriage has all of the money and another has a significant amount less it creates problems."
Neville shook his head with a dismissive smile. "I doubt your sister and I will have those problems. I—"
"No, no." Draco wagged his finger as if Neville were a petulant child. "No. You cannot dismiss this. You—" Draco stopped himself. Neville was uncomfortable discussing money. Small things here and there had been said, or avoided. Draco wasn't going to press it though, Neville was proud and Draco knew that well. Pride if injured could be beyond repair.
"There are an assortment of reasons why you should have that money. It allows you and my sister to be on more even footing. Which you may not realize, but money will play into that. When you have children, for example, do you want it to always be Graces buying elaborate gifts and planning vacations? What if you just want to buy her a gift yourself? What if this house needs extensive repairs that need to be paid for? I can't see you easily asking my sister for money, and I can't see these things not coming up in your marriage. You need to have financial freedom and this money allows for that."
Neville shifted awkwardly, but didn't seem sold on this idea. "It's… it's a lot of money," he murmured. "And I can't see myself or my family ever needing such an extraordinary amount. And—"
"Come on, Longbottom, we're going to be family. You can finish that sentence."
"Can I finish it or did you already get it from my head?" Neville asked, his voice turning cold.
"Sorry," Draco offered, actually feeling the sentiment. "Severus wants me to—I have practice checking in on what others are thinking. I mean, he wants me in the habit of checking and not being detected. And I live here, so, sorry. I'll try not to."
"It's… bloody hell," Neville groaned, leaning back in his chair and covering his face. He made another noise of frustration, before sitting back up and looking at him. "Don't. You can—" he sighed and cursed again. "You can," he nodded, not quite looking him in the eye.
"I can try not to," Draco offered. "I know it's inv—"
"I don't want you to try not to. I want you to do everything you need to do to survive. I can be a bit uncomfortable, it's fine."
It didn't sound fine. "You're more private than I originally thought you were." Neville glanced up, but didn't confirm or deny. "I mean. I suppose I didn't know you that well before, but I thought I did."
"Yeah, Graces has said something similar," he admitted. "She said I give an illusion of being open, but I'm not."
"Do you agree with that?"
Neville's jaw tensed slightly. "I don't know. I don't think anyone has ever really wanted to get to know me. Maybe I am a bit private, but—" he shrugged.
"It's hard to be open when you don't know how," Draco murmured.
"Yeah," Neville whispered. "Can we table the money thing? I just—I'll think about what you said."
Draco nodded. "The money is clean by the way. It's not dirty."
"Your definition or mine?" Neville asked with a small smile at the attempt of a joke.
Draco thought for a moment. "I think it would be by your definition. I can go into detail if you like, but you just asked for the discussion to be tabled."
Neville nodded, letting Draco know he was standing by that request. Draco sifted through the papers a bit more looking at Neville's notes. He could make out some things here and there.
"Were you able to work on the house today?"
"What do you think?"
Draco tried to resist the urge to smile but lost. His family contracts were extensive to say the least. Practically every single detail or issue that could arise in a marriage was outlined.
"I, erm, wanted to talk to Graces about a few things in here."
"Brides are not supposed to see these until they are done," Draco said firmly. "Weddings are for the brides and they are meant to be an enjoyable affair. The idea is they can enjoy their wedding if they do not have to negotiate things like this. Graces will see it at the signing."
"Draco, no offense, but that's bloody stupid. This is her life, she should get a say in, for example, how many children she wants."
"I thought we were not putting in any stipulations on that?" Draco pointed out with false innocence.
Draco kind of enjoyed seeing Neville a bit flustered. Maybe that wasn't fair of him, but not many things about this situation were exactly fair to begin with. Neville tapped the table and seemed to be trying to put his thoughts together, as if he could argue with Draco and perhaps he could get him to see reason.
"I am aware this is supposed to be a time of separation between Graces and I. That you feel some separation is needed and I do not want to diminish that. But part of making sure she is really ready to take this step to make this decision is for her to be a part of those decisions."
Draco scowled. "What decision is it that you are fretting over? We have agreed to take on any debt that your family has, including property debt. We have stipulated here that all property that either of you own prior to this marriage will stay your property in the event of a divorce. Only property and assets accumulated during the marriage will be split and it is split allowing you 70% to her 30% as any children you have should not have to suffer the financial loss of the estate. This is incredibly generous and our family makes it incredibly generous for a reason. What exactly is your problem with this contract? What could she possibly need to be talked to about if you are not putting any marital expectations on her?"
Neville's stare turned hard. "There are things. For example in here it's stipulated that the joining can be ended due to things like blood curses, lycanthropy—"
"So?"
"Sealings don't end because of those things," Neville reminded. "If she really would not want to be married to someone who is a werewolf then we shouldn't have a sealing."
Draco was silent. That was a very good point.
"Okay," Draco relented. "Maybe before or after the first ceremony you two could talk."
"I thought you wouldn't go through any ceremonies if the contract was not done?"
"I said there isn't a point if we can't reach an agreement," Draco corrected, rolling his eyes. "I didn't say I wouldn't."
There was a heavy silence for a while before Neville asked when and what ceremony would be done. Draco and Neville's uncle had been corresponding by firecall for a few nights and while not all ceremonies could be done they both wanted a few they each felt was critical.
"Soon," Draco sighed. "Not much time, so we better do those soon. Your uncle and I both agreed on one for candor and another for temperament."
Neville looked uneasy with this new knowledge. "Candor and temperament?"
Draco nodded. "Your Uncle is very skeptical of my sister: candor. And I am nervous about how this marriage will work: temperament."
He waited to see what Neville had to say regarding the matter, but Neville remained quiet in his own thoughts.
"Could we do candor first?" Neville said after a long while.
"Sure."
"Are we only doing two?"
"I think so, many of the others are more to introduce the families. More for show and dance. Celebrations," he said softly. "They all serve their purpose in showing if the match is good, but they are more light hearted. Whereas these two are quite serious and more needed."
"I only want my uncle at the ceremonies," Neville said, standing and putting the kettle on. "Not my gran."
"I think that is a mistake. Leaving out the woman that raised you and that for all—"
"I don't care. Only my uncle."
"Are you determined in burning this bridge between you and your gran?"
"I am determined to protect Graces and you. I will not have either of you suffer through what our first meeting was like."
"You can't abandon the family you have for the family you want," Draco said quietly. "That's not how family works. You're mad at your gran, you don't like what she said and did, but she's still your gran. Family is supposed to always have a seat at the table, Longbottom. And we certainly don't get to pick through and discard—"
"I'm sorry, does your mother talk with all her sisters?"
"My mother's sister abandoned her. Not the other way around. Your Gran hasn't abandoned you."
"She comes to none of the ceremonies leading to the wedding," Neville stressed, bringing over two mugs of tea. "I'm done discussing this."
Draco took a sip of his tea. He thought about how much nicer this discussion could be if they were at the manor with a proper tea tray and proper tea. He wondered idly if he should just bring those things over but then thought better of it. He really couldn't wait to see Graces reaction to what living with Neville would be like.
"Let me tell you another fun thing about families, Longbottom. You don't get to decide you're done discussing something, especially with siblings. Even future siblings," Draco added smiling. "And I know you have a lack of experience with this, so I will also add that we get to be as mean as possible in these discussions, because, well, less power imbalance. We are on equal footing, so we can shout, slam doors, scream, hex and then sit at the breakfast table together an hour later like none of those other things had occurred."
"Is this you telling me we're about to fight?" Neville asked, leaning back in his chair with a frown.
"It's only a fight if you decide to continue this stupidity."
"I like how you just called me stupid in a sentence that was supposed to dissuade me from fighting with you."
"It is stupid to bar your gran from these ceremonies. It is stupid for a multitude of reasons, but the biggest being that her opinion will not be changing without any insight into your and Graces' relationship."
Neville's brow stitched together in an odd sort of way. He looked amused and sympathetic at the same time as he looked hard at Draco. "Draco," he scoffed. "Seriously?"
Draco didn't seem to get what the joke was and waited.
Neville shook his head. "Candor. Temperament. These ceremonies are not going to go well."