You'll be the Death of Me

Chapter 12

Neville decided that he did not want Graces to have the upper hand in their meeting tonight. It sounded juvenile, but he hated how composed the Slytherin girl always was. Graces constantly seemed to need to be in control, and while Neville was used to women like that from growing up with his gran, for once he wanted to be the cool, steady one, the one with the upper hand. With that thought in mind, he decided that he was going to do everything in his power to knock those brick walls of hers down, and his first plan to achieve that was to catch her off guard.

So there he was sitting in an abandoned classroom, alone with his thoughts, well over an hour before she would be arriving. All day the sandy haired Gryffindor had been thinking of Graces. At first, after her monster of a pet attacked him, he was mostly thinking of all the bad things about her, but after his conversation with Hermione his anger had diminished quite considerably. Probably because he was then thinking of all the reasons he wanted her and not Hannah.

He had not lied to Hermione, everything he said was true. He and Graces had amazing chemistry, but it was more than that. Yes, the sex was fantastic and his body definitely reacted to her's. His body reacted to hers even when he just saw her in the halls. Just the other week he had been in potions, for once doing well with his assignment, and then Graces had put her hair up in her usual messy bun. After that it all went downhill. Instead of concentrating on what he and Hermione were brewing, he stood mesmerized by the three beauty marks Graces had on her neck. Neville had never thought that a neck could make him botch a potion, but Graces' neck did. When he should have been making sure he was adding the correct ingredients, he instead was fantasizing about standing behind her, folding her tightly in his arms, so that she was leaning back against his chest, and gently kissing the back of her neck right where those marks jeweled her perfect skin. But it was more than his body that reacted to her, his magic reacted to her. He first realized this as he felt hers' within him when he awoke in the barn. Now he constantly could feel his own power calling out to hers.

It was not quiet and gentle when she was around, it was active, humming with excitement inside him. He was beginning to think it was also the main drive behind why he was able to be so much of himself with her. He couldn't seem to just shy away from her with his magic egging him on. Things he would usually be able to ignore he now couldn't. If he was upset with her, he wanted, no needed, to show it. It was odd, feeling the need to want someone to see you. This was so strange for Neville, considering he originally spent most of his day not wanting to be noticed at all. Well, I think she is definitely paying attention now.

Neville heard the door being eased open. He glanced down at his watch and noted he still had almost an hour before Graces was to arrive. When he looked up he saw Graces enter. She was balancing a pile of books in her hands so high that her vision was completely obscured. He sat quietly as she placed the books down and began organizing her things on the desk. She had her hair in a messy bun again, two quills sticking out her messy locks, and a chocolate frog in her mouth that she was holding between her teeth as her hands continued to pull an appearingly endless amount of potion supplies out of her rucksack. Graces, after all her things were neatly laid out, sat on the desk across from her supplies and began taking her hair out, while at the same time finishing her snack.

Neville just sat bemused, in the same corner he had been occupying, enjoying the scene before him.

Ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

I should have changed, Graces thought, looking down at her uniform. I could have worn that nice blouse with some jeans. Nothing too showy, but not a uniform. I'm always in a uniform around him.