You'll be the Death of Me

Chapter 2

Neville Longbottom knew he was starting to obsess over Graces Malfoy, but he couldn't seem to stop. Ever since their first conversation, he found himself wanting to know the girl, that up until this point, he had deemed as a, heartless, domineering, future death eater. Neville spent weeks contemplating the riddle that was Graces Malfoy. He watched her, with her friends in the corridors, smirking at what was being said. His eyes wandered to her in the great hall, sitting with her brother eating her meals delicately. And much to the dismay of his already bad enough potions grade, he had become mesmerized with her in potions class too. Her face tranquil as she read the directions, her hands easily moving about her desk as if without thought: cutting this, stirring that, and always at the end producing a perfect brew. She was quite amazing. Neville didn't think any person could work with such ease. He was surprised that, up until that point, he had never noticed that Graces was a very advanced witch. Her talents just were not recognized as much as Hermione's, she was smart, definitely, but it was just different. She was quiet and didn't answer questions in class often, but when she did, she answered them efficiently and always had another tidbit of information to add. Her eyes that he had always considered so cold, would light up and gleam whenever she answered a question, was working on a project, or learned a new bit of information that she found interesting.

The only class she seemed to struggle in was Herbology, and as much as she struggled, the sandy haired boy had the impression that she was enjoying herself all the same. It was like she had a switch, anytime she got near a plant she was useless. Plants to Graces Malfoy were like potions to Neville Longbottom. No matter how hard she tried, she always seemed to mess something up, causing the plant to wilt away or attack her. Even if she followed all the instructions explicitly, double and triple checking, the plants seemed to not want to cooperate with her. It was frustrating for both students, considering their grades were more heavily weighed on the practical aspect of the class.

Neville, for the past few weeks, had worked diligently alongside Graces in the greenhouse. She clearly did her reading, she understood the properties of each plant, what they needed to survive, and she even understood the Latin in the names. She also knew a decent amount of the history associated with most plants they studied. Neville silently wished she was more talkative so they could have discussions on herbology while they worked, but her callous demeanor towards him let him know that conversation wasn't welcome. Writing their paper together was the only time she really spoke, and even then it wasn't really a discussion. They would tell each other what information to add or ask that something be re-worded here or there. Yet, despite her attitude towards him, he was surprisingly at ease in her company.

It was now Saturday and Neville was sitting in the Great Hall with Dean and Seamus. Dean was explaining football to the fire prone Irish boy, while Neville listened absently. Football just seemed like a boring muggle sport in comparison to quidditch. Besides, Neville had other things on his mind; he was determined to not look over at the Slytherin table today. He had decided that he had gone beyond just being curious about the girl, to actually turning a bit creepy. He now knew how she liked her tea, that she had a major sweet tooth, and that she preferred to read during her morning breakfast, among other little tidbits about her that he'd picked up. He noticed that while Pansy and the other Slytherin girls liked to link arms while walking in the corridors, Graces preferred to walk alone. Actually, now that he thought of it, Neville realised that she didn't seem to like to be touched at all. It was as though she had an invisible bubble around her, and apparently it was well known in the Slytherin house that she enjoyed her space. This is the reason that when she did finally come in the Great hall for breakfast, with her brother's arm comfortingly around her, he no longer was able to keep his resolve not to look at her.