You'll be the Death of Me

Chapter 99

Chapter 99

This was awkward, really awkward, Neville thought, standing in front of his Head of House's door. Dinner with Professor McGonagall and Graces. Every night. He bit his lip and wondered if he should wait for Graces before entering and then scowled when he realized she may already be in there. He ran a hand through his hair and realized how desperately uncomfortable he was with this. Before he could come to a decision the door swung open on its own.

Graces was indeed already there and he had a suspicious feeling that she had just opened the door to check and see if he was down the hall yet. She glared at him.

"You're late," she hissed.

"Am I late, or were you early?" Neville asked, raising his brows and knowing the answer to the question.

"To be early is to be on time, to be on time is to be late and to be late is unacceptable," Graces lectured under her breath, arms crossed as Neville walked in. Neville glanced down at his watch. Four—maybe five—minutes late if he was being generous.

He was about to point this out, but decided to refrain. Graces had her arms crossed tightly around her and she kept glancing over nervously to where he could hear McGonagall in the kitchen.

"I will be early from now on," he promised, gently rubbing her arms. He was about to pull her in, but then stopped. Graces seemed to sense the reasoning behind his hesitation as well. It didn't feel right to be intimate standing in their teacher's apartment. He suddenly felt very young. Or maybe not young, but my actual age.

"Right?" she mouthed, a mixture of horror and disappointment.

"Relax," Neville said gently, trying to appear more comfortable than he was feeling. He had a feeling he wasn't a good actor, though, based on Graces' look. He quietly motioned her back through the door so that they could talk privately in the hall.

"The other night you were worried you made a mistake," he prodded. "Are you still feeling that way?"

Graces looked up and his heart dropped into his feet. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Neville couldn't hide his hurt.

"Not about you," Graces pleaded. "Just... I didn't plan on telling someone all that. And Draco—"

"Nothing is changing now, Graces. It's just dinner."

Graces took in a shuddering breath and her eyes brimmed with tears. "We aren't alone anymore, Neville. She knows about us. We can't sneak around anymore to be together. I don't get to have you to m—"

McGonagall opened the door and Graces quickly turned away to hide her tears. The older woman looked at Neville who awkwardly muttered that they needed a moment. McGonagall seemed a bit unsure about leaving as though she were going to try to talk to Graces herself there in the hall, but she nodded and gave them the privacy.

"I'm not comfortable being myself around people I don't know, or around people I do know."

"It doesn't have to happen overnight. You can warm up to Professor McGonagall and—"

"I'm not worried about McGonagall, Neville, I'm worried about you."

Neville frowned at her statement. "Me?" His eyes shifted as he tried to think about what she was saying. "Graces," he whispered, cupping her face in his palms. "Why do you think we are so fragile?"

"Because we are, Neville."

Neville shook his head. "No, we're not."

Graces shook her head. "I feel so distant from everyone. Draco is a part of me and now he's a stranger. Now he thinks of me as a stranger. We have not existed without one another and it took months to ruin that, how long will it take for this to be ruined? For you to feel distant from me because we can't be ourselves around one another. And you're all I have now," she added tightly.