You'll be the Death of Me

Chapter 112

It all felt very silly. Graces stared at her reflection in the mirror and waited as if the mirrored image would say something to her, do something other than what she herself was doing, answer questions she didn't dare speak. She worried her bottom lip for a moment before standing up from the vanity. She needed to go meet Neville now for their date.

She moved to put her things away properly in her dorm and as she did so she put away her thoughts regarding her father. She didn't want them. She wanted to tuck away all she was feeling and thinking for at least one night; she didn't want to ruin what was between her and Neville. She could, though. She paused as she held her tie thoughtfully. Would it be worth it? Destroying her and Neville for her father, for her family.

For Draco.

She put away her tie and the thought. She would trust Neville. She was not blind and in love with him, nor was he with her. He understood her, he loved her, and he wouldn't say something to her if he didn't mean it. He had sworn to consider and he would. She was going to enjoy her night with him, she was determined to. Part of her wondered if this determination to have a date with him was out of desperation, if maybe she needed to be reminded that they were in love, that she could trust and love him.

"Graces."

Graces blinked over to where Graham was sitting in the common room. He eyed her dress, before frowning slightly and looking at her hair and face.

"Are you not coming to dinner tonight?" he asked quietly.

Graces swallowed. "No, I am having dinner with Mcgonagall as per her request."

It was a lie she didn't need to tell. Graham's lips tightened. "This is our last chance, Graces," he said quietly, his eyes pleading with her to listen. "Your last and Draco's last. I have used every favor, opportunity, and resource at my disposal to do this for you all."

That sick feeling was suddenly pooling in her belly at his words. She let out a barely audible "I know."

"If you can do anything you need to."

"It's not that simple."

"It is that simple, Graces," Graham snapped, standing up. "It is. I know it is, because I have done all of the hard work to make it that simple. Ask, demand, cry, beg, I don't care. You do any of those and I know without a doubt he would bend."

Graces shook her head, her earlier determination already crumbling.

"It's Draco," Graham reminded, his voice filled with disbelief. "Draco."

Graces swallowed. "I—" she stopped and again tried to regain herself. "I need him to choose this on his own. It cannot be me that forces his hand."

Graham let out some noise of disgust. "You want proof of his love?"

"No, I—"

"It doesn't matter to me," Graham clipped. "Whatever your excuse is, it's meaningless."

His words felt like poison. She could feel them contaminating her resolve and she could see herself perfectly as Graham saw her now and she didn't blame him for how he viewed her. Perhaps how he viewed her now was how she truly was: selfish, stupid, perfidious.

"I need to go now."

Graham let out a noise of disgust. "Right."

Graces tried to swallow the ball of emotion that had welled in her throat. "I can not ask him this, Graham. You don't understand. He—" she stopped. "He would feel damned. And he would eventually blame me for damning his soul."