You'll be the Death of Me

Chapter 60

It was official. Graces was avoiding him. Neville had now come to the point where he wondered how much of this his heart could take. Was he forever doomed to feel that he was on thin ice with Graces? One small move and they would crack. There was no security, nothing to reach for to hold him up when she did this.

All week he had felt the bitter sting of rejection from her. She wouldn't even meet his eyes in class. She kept her nose buried in notes and during anything practical she just asked a million questions about the subject, refusing to allow him a single friendly word. She wasn't cruel or mean, just distant. She greeted him and anything above that was like pulling teeth. It wasn't long before he just stopped trying, more comfortable with silence than pathetic attempts to bring her back to him.

He had hoped that maybe he could demand to know more of what was going on when they were forced to meet outside of class to tend to their plant, but Graces had outmaneuvered him. She would show up for their meetings with Blaise and the two of them were usually enthralled in some discussion that he couldn't understand seeing as they decided to speak in French around him for their privacy.

"Good morning," Graces breathed taking her seat beside him and opening her notes.

Neville nodded to her greeting, but didn't look towards her. He kept his eyes set forward. He could feel anger pooling into his body despite himself and gritted his teeth tighter to keep from being unpleasant. Graces appeared not to notice. Or care.

"I'm still going tomorrow," Neville murmured angrily. Graces paused in her reading but didn't say anything else, much to Neville's irritation. "I mean, I said I would and Hannah is expecting me there and Ernie is as well. So I'm going."

"I wouldn't expect you not to go," Graces countered gently, going back to her book. Neville glowered at her. Here he was practically a wreck and she was just as tranquil as ever. He pressed his lips together to keep himself from goading her more. He felt like a child, a child that was so starved for attention he would settle for negative rather than positive. He just wanted a rise out of Graces at this point. He didn't even care if their interactions were friendly so long as it was an interaction.

"Good, because I don't care that you don't want me there. I'm still going."

The blonde sighed in exasperation and finally looked up at him.

"I never said I didn't want you there," Graces pointed out. "I very much do want you there. What I did say was I wanted space."

"Yeah, but you refused to answer why you wanted space."

It was now Graces' turn to glower at him. Neville met her stare though, refusing to just back away. After everything he felt he should know.

"I am not talking to you about this now," Graces said, turning back to her notes.

"Always your terms," Neville murmured bitterly, going back to staring forward. "So if not now, when? Friday? Or do you plan on bringing Zabini with you then too?"

"Professor," Graces called out, as Sprout took the front of the room. "I'm feeling ill, do you mind if I go to the infirmary?"

"You have got to be kidding me," Neville murmured under his breath.

"Is everything okay?" Professor Sprout asked, moving to their desk and looking the blonde over.

"Yes, I just am not feeling to well. Do you mind if I go lie down?"

"Well, what is it that's bothering you?"

Graces paused for a moment before glancing at Neville and leaning in and whispering something to the woman in front of her. Professor Sprout seemed to feel that whatever Graces had mentioned was excuse enough because she nodded and told her to go ahead and to feel better soon.