You'll be the Death of Me

Chapter 90

Neville had been waiting for hours. For a while it felt as though Harry would never fall asleep. When he finally did, Neville, in his paranoia, was too afraid to trust that he was truly sound asleep. He pretended to leave twice, waiting outside the door for Harry to follow, before he did indeed leave. He checked his watch and cursed at how little time the evening hours really held. He wondered if Graces was already fast asleep and prayed she wasn't. He had sent a letter asking her to meet him tonight and she had agreed, but he doubted she would be able to wait for him so long. She was being released from the hospital wing tomorrow, but she still couldn't be away from her bed long enough for someone to notice.

His stomach turned at the thought of not seeing her. He had not been able to visit since the first night, where so many things were left unsaid. He sent flowers daily, and he was surprised that every morning at breakfast he had a letter from her saying she was well, she was bored, Draco is worse than a mother hen and she missed him. He didn't know how she got away with sending the letters. He had a feeling that between Draco, her mother, Graham and Thomas she was rarely alone, but she found a way.

By the time he was in the hall leading to their room he was running. He was sure she must have left. Staying out this late increased the chances that she would be missed, but still he hoped. These past few days had been miserable. Every second of every day he wanted to go to her and check that she was okay. He didn't think he could wait longer now. If she wasn't in the room he was going to the hospital wing to see her.

"You're still here," he exclaimed after bursting through the door to find Graces sitting on the sofa.

"You said in your letter it might be awhile."

He knew that he shouldn't be staring at the black eye patch covering her eye, but he couldn't stop. It was all he could see.

"Say something."

"You never mentioned in your letters that-that—"

"Draco made the decision," Graces said quietly, looking away for a moment and absently brushing her fingers against the patch. "It's done. The healers removed it a few days ago. I have to wear the patch for a while. I can't control the new eye yet. It just moves about on its own." He could tell this was difficult for her, that just acknowledging it's presence was killing her, but she continued on forcing herself to say each word. "The patch helps, it doesn't want to move if there isn't anything to see. I have to practice using it, but until I can hold it still on my own I'm supposed to wear the patch when I'm not practicing."

"Does it hurt?" Neville asked cautiously.

Graces nodded her head but still didn't look at him. "It's not fully healed, so the wound is still pretty angry. Another reason for the patch. When the eye moves it hurts, not to mention the headaches."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Neville gently took her hand away from her face and held it in his.

Graces absently shrugged her shoulders and continued to avoid his eyes. "I thought you would visit. You said you wouldn't stay away." She looked up at him now her one eye filled to the brim with unfallen tears. "I planned to tell you in person, but you never came. You never wrote either. Not that the flowers weren't lovely—" Graces added quickly, "—but I thought you would write."

Neville cursed Harry and wished he was there with them now so he could punch his lights out. If Harry hadn't been watching his every move he would have written her something. Instead he could barely find the time to send a standing order to a florist to send Graces flowers anonymously for the week.

"I was worried your family would see," he offered lamely, kissing her hand. "I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you visit?"