Love. He had said love. Graces sat by the desk and watched Neville as he slept. She knew he didn't love her, it wasn't possible for him to. And yet, here she was sitting in the dark thinking about it. She hadn't been able to stop thinking of it since he proclaimed it. Her hands moved absently to the chain around her neck holding the gift Neville had given her so long ago. At least she felt like it was long ago.
She could hear Neville stirring from his sleep and sat up slightly as he disorientedly sat up and looked around the room for her.
"What time is it?" Neville yawned, rubbing his eyes from sleep and trying to focus on her.
"It's very late."
"Late and cold."
Graces nodded and tucked her legs closer to her chest. She hadn't realized how chilled the air was till now, but her feet beneath her felt like ice.
"Come to bed."
It was said so tenderly she felt compelled to listen. She stood up from the chair as Neville opened the blankets for her to come in, pulling her closer to him as she moved on top of the bed. He held her like he did every night: close to his broad chest and with strong arms that wrapped her up into him.
"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"
He was obviously tired; she could hear the weariness in his voice and the hand that was stroking her head seemed to be slowing as he fought sleep.
"It's nothing."
"It very rarely is nothing with you," Neville chuckled, smiling against the top of her head. He was smelling her hair. He always fell asleep smelling her hair.
"Do I smell good?"
"Heavenly."
She smiled against his chest and soon after the joy she felt diminished as she remembered what he had said to her last night. I'm in love with you.
"Oh, so it's that bad."
"What do you mean?" She moved away from him so she could see his face.
"You hold me tighter when something is wrong."
"I do?"
"Yeah, you do," Neville grinned, his eyes closed as though he wondered close to sleep. "I like it though. Makes me feel needed."
"You are needed," Graces whispered, placing her hand on his cheek.
Neville gave a tired laugh and pulled her back into him for sleep. She couldn't though. She laid there and wondered if what he said was true.
"Neville... Neville."
Neville made some noise that sounded like a mix between a groan and whimper.
"I'm sorry. Nevermind."
"No-no. I'm up. I'm up." Graces began to protest, but Neville already had sat up in the bed, spelled some light and was drinking her glass of water, his was already empty, to wake up. After a few moments he waved his hand lazily encouraging her to talk.
"Let's just go to bed," Graces flushed.
"Graces, you know I'm not a morning person right? And also, that unlike you, I can't sleep through natural disasters."
"I don't—"
"You do. Once you're out, you're out. And then you wake up unnaturally early. Now, lately I've been waking up super early and going to bed super late, and it's killing me. It really is, Graces. I need sleep. Need," Neville stressed. "So please, Graces, for my sake. Just tell me what's wrong."
Graces opened her mouth to speak and then quickly shut it.
"I—." Deep breath. "—I would love to go out with you on Valentine's Day."
There was a penetrating silence as Neville took in her words. "Really?"
"Yes, really," Graces nodded, her voice barely a whisper.
"You don't seem very sure," Neville pointed out.
"I am though. I'm sure."
He didn't believe her. His wary stare and subdued expression showcased his doubts. Still, she put on her brave face and did her best not to show her own hesitations.
"I want to make this very clear, Graces," Neville began, his tone serious. "You do not have to feel guilty about not loving me. You do not have to feel badly about last night or about my fight with Harry."
Those could all very well be her reasons for agreeing to this. The idea of her going on an actual date with Neville was still so absurd, and she had spent hours wondering why she felt the need to give him this. She should be saying no. It made sense to say no, so surely her reasonings to go would be solely out of guilt and thus should be ignored. But in the end, after all her reasoning and thoughts, she still came back to the same decision and it was like all of those reasons that she had compiled didn't matter anymore.
"Like I said. I would love to go."
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She was staring at him again. It seemed she was doing a lot of that these past few days. Graces sat captivated once again by the man in front of her. She watched as Neville fingered through books, hurriedly scribbled some notes and quietly cursed whenever he spilled a bit of ink on his final paper. A dark mark came down from the side of his cheek from earlier when he had absently rubbed his face and forgotten the ink on his fingers and his hair was becoming increasingly disheveled from his fingers running through it. He lacked elegance, refinement and the ability to feign looking calm and collected in times of chaos. He was nothing of what she imagined for herself. And yet he was all she wanted.
He took another swig of his tea and glanced down into the cup, his brows furrowing slightly, before making an impatient huff and going back to the paper he forgot was due tomorrow. Graces smiled quietly to herself and stood from where she was reading and returned with a fresh cup to replace his empty one.
Neville took it gratefully and kissed her cheek in thanks. She flushed at the contact. He kissed her in thanks the same way her father kissed her mother when she brought him tea, the way that reminded her growing up how in love her father was with her mother. He paused his frantic work, took the cup and with one hand leaned her down gently with the other to softly kiss her cheek, lingering in the space between her neck and collar his hand still softly touching her neck. And just as she had seen her mother do countless times she found herself moving to sit on his lap to rest her head on his chest.
"Are you sure you don't want my help?" She whispered, closing her eyes for a moment as Neville twined his fingers in her hair.
"Very sure."
She could feel the vibrations from his chuckle against her cheek and snuggled closer to him, her fingers absently unbuttoning his shirt and finding their way to his chest. She knew he was busy, frantic to try and finish his paper so he could go to bed, but he didn't try and dismiss her. He lounged back in his chair and relaxed beneath her touch.
"I'm glad you're not staying out in the Greenhouse so late now, or leaving so early. It's nice having you here."
Neville smiled against her head in reply, but didn't say anything else on the subject. Graces had a feeling that he wasn't going to the Greenhouse to work on any project and had pestered him quite a bit about it the other night until Neville admitted he was doing it to keep people from knowing about them. He wanted people to think he was there, because he so commonly was, and not wonder or ask if he had been elsewhere. It did make sense, and Graces dropped her complaining about his time spent away from her.
"I'm so sorry I forgot about this paper," Neville sighed.
"It's not our Valentine's Day anyways," Graces breathed, disappointed despite her words. "And you did send me flowers."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Lilies, white cotton and lavender," Graces giggled. "Who else would send me such a strange array of flowers."
"I don't know. It seemed you had many people who felt the need to send you flowers."
Graces grinned against Neville's chest.
"Do I detect a hint of jealously?" Neville's jaw tensed and Graces enjoyed his irritation for a few moments before promising him he had nothing to be jealous about.
"So who all sent them?"
"Draco, Thomas, Graham—for appearances, I'm sure—and my father," she whispered quietly. "He must have a standing order to send me flowers. He always sends me flowers on Valentine's day, a smaller version of the ones he'd send my mother. And my mother, of course, sent me chocolates."
"Oh of course," Neville teased, his arms tightening around her. Graces smirked and closed her eyes, content to just sit here the rest of the night. "I'm sorry he isn't here. I know you miss him."
"I miss both of them," Graces murmured tightly. "I miss my mother too."
Graces appreciated that Neville seemed to know when there were no need for words. He held her silently, allowing her to feel the ache in her chest that was for her parents. He was there and that for a million reasons was enough.
"You should make up with Potter."
"I should finish this paper."
"Yes, I agree, and then you should make up with Potter."
Neville groaned, but Graces didn't relent.
"Neville, it doesn't look right for you two to be fighting, and I can't stand the guilt. I feel like I've cost you greatly. So apologize—yes, apologize." Graces stressed, already seeing the argument on Neville's lips "Potter was right. Every single thing he said was right. He's not paranoid and you knew that and you punched him."
"He had no right to touch you."
"Yeah, well Draco broke his nose earlier this year and my father and aunt tried to kill him, so he's allowed to be a bit overzealous."
"No he's not." Graces held her breathe as Neville cupped her face, his eyes intent as he stared into her's. "No one is allowed to touch you, Graces. Absolutely no one. Not Harry Potter, not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, no one."
"Please, Neville, for me. Make amends," Graces whispered, her hand joining the one he had placed on her face. She kissed his palm and waited, hoping he would bend.
"I'll think about it." Graces couldn't help but grin, she did love getting her way. "I'll think about it after I finish this paper," Neville added pointedly.
Graces knew she was being dismissed, but she remained where she was, casually dancing her fingers to the desk drawer where she kept her usual assortments of sugar quills.
"Just one more thing,"she purred, taking out the small, red leather casing she had stored away. "Happy Valentine's Day, Mr. Longbottom."
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Neville stared at the the small box Graces was presenting to him, the box that he was sure just from the fine leather casing held something obnoxiously expensive.
"What did you think I didn't get you anything?" Graces teased. "For shame."
"No, I just—"
"Open it."
She was like a child on Christmas day, all smiles and excitement. She was practically bouncing up and down with joy, making the Gryffindor even more nervous for what was in store for him. He gave her a nervous smile and opened the tiny box.
Cufflinks. Gold cufflinks, each with a massive ruby.
"I was going to get you a watch," Graces mused idly. "A very fine watch, but—" she paused "—I assumed this one had sentimental value."
Neville tore his eyes away from the cufflinks to where Graces was tapping his wrist, just above where his watch sat.
"It was my father's," he said softly, slowly taking his wrist away so he could reach over and touch the old leather and the gold that long ago had dimmed.
"I thought so," Graces sighed, laying her head down on his shoulder and looking over to the cufflinks. "No watch I could have given you would have been as beloved, and I do hate competing, so I decided on these."
"Surely, those aren't real," he whispered, sort of hoping against hope they weren't.
"Of course they're real," Graces scoffed, taking them out and holding them against his wrist, imagining them on him. "I'm a Malfoy, do you think I would purchase anything but the best? These are real, the gold is real too," she winked, all too happy with herself. "Do you like them?"
"I do," Neville admitted awkwardly. "But I can't accept them. They're far too expensive."
Graces rolled her eyes at his concern. "You can and you will," she declared, nodding once for emphasis. "You should have nice things and a man needs a good pair of cufflinks, it's one of the things that other men notice when you shake their hand."
Neville could feel his heart growing increasingly heavy. He wanted to just not accept them, have Graces take them back, but he knew that it would be rude to ask her to. Still, he didn't want them.
"Gifts like this are supposed to make you happy," Graces frowned, her eyes showing how little she understood his feelings. "I bought these to make you happy."
Neville took a deep breath and tried to think of how to explain this to Graces.
"I will never be able to buy you anything as extravagant as this so casually, Graces. So receiving such a gift from you just reminds me of that. It makes me feel bad that I can't get you anything as nice in return."
"What are you talking about?" Graces laughed, clearly not seeing his point. "You gave me this, and this has to be worth more than those cufflinks. It's old magic," she exclaimed, holding it out so that the runes showed.
Neville looked at the necklace she pulled out from under her shirt. He took the pendent in between his fingers and moved it so it glistened in the candlelight, the old magic still alive within the glass. It was worth a lot, but...
"This was from my family vault," Neville reminded. "I didn't buy it and all it was doing was just sitting gathering dust. It's supposed to be used to make alliances, but I don't think I ever would have used it."
"Yes, but—"
"Graces, you bought me a hospital wing. A bloody hospital wing. Not that I'm not thankful for it. I am so thankful, eternally thankful," Neville stressed. "You'll never know how grateful I am to you. But do you understand how that, and now this could make me feel uncomfortable?"
"No, I mean, you're not poor. You dress poorly, but you're not actually poor." Neville ignored the slight and waited patiently for Graces to gather her thoughts and explain what she meant. "Your family has a lot of property and a... an acceptable—" she said carefully, "—amount of coin in the vaults? Right? I mean, I always assumed you did."
"We're very comfortable," Neville answered, wondering if Graces did in fact think his family may be poor. "We don't touch most of the money we have though. We only use the income we earn from our jobs, that way if something unfortunate happens there is gold to fall back on."
"How much do you all have?"
Neville raised a brow at Graces' obvious attempt to sound casual.
"Not much in comparison to you, and we are by no means rich."
"But surely you were left money after all those people in your family died during the war. You would have been left with—"
"All that money was donated to the war, helping people who had lost their breadwinners, hiding muggleborns, to the Order," Neville explained calmly, waving his hand to indicate there was more. "We only kept the property for ourselves."
"Oh."
"I know you're rich, Graces," Neville continued, blushing despite himself. "I know you're used to gifts that are expensive and elaborate, gifts that even if I was working as a professor here I wouldn't be able to afford, and—"
"I don't want anything from you. I—"
"But I want to give things to you," Neville countered. "And I can't. I can't and by the time I am able to get you anything decently nice... you won't be here anymore," Neville whispered quietly, a familiar ache taking hold of him.
Graces didn't argue his point. She sat quietly absorbing the weight of his words.
"You need to stop listening to that-that muggle music you like."
"Excuse me?" Neville asked, completely taken aback by the turn in conversation.
"It's all dark and sad. Moody. I don't like it." She declared similar to a petulant child. Neville scowled at the heat in her words. "Like the song you were listening to earlier, when I came in for the night. I hate it. Why would you listen to that song? It just puts these-these sad thoughts in your head."
"I—" Neville pursed his lips and tried to remember what song Graces' was referring to. "What song?"
"You know the one," Graces snapped. "They're all sad, but the one earlier. The one about a relationship ending." Neville noted the tightness in Graces' voice, but sat still waiting for her to finish. "A relationship ending and then the two people becoming strangers. Not knowing one another, or pretending to not know one another."
"How's It Going to Be?" Neville offered, remembering the song. Graces glared at him accusingly, as though he were arguing with her point. "I like that song," he said pointedly. "It's a good song."
"It's a sad song!" Graces declared, her anger bringing her to stand.
Silence enfolded them.
"It's sad," Graces pleaded, going to her knees in front of him and taking his hands in hers. "It's sad and I don't want you sad. I don't want you thinking of-of when I leave. I don't want to think about when I leave."
"I am not sad," Neville swore, moving to bend down with her. "I am so happy. The happiest I have ever been in my entire life." He leaned in and kissed her softly. "You're mine. I never in my entire life thought I would have someone for myself like you."
"Then why were you listening to that song."
"It was on the radio."
"You turned it up when it came on. You didn't even hear me come in, you turned it up and-and I saw you, Neville. You stopped and listened to it."
"You're reading too much into this," Neville lied. "I just like the song."
"I don't believe you." Graces hiccuped. "I think you feel like-like that song is us. You're thinking about when we end. You just mentioned it a moment ago!"
"Graces," Neville whispered, moving to touch her and being pushed away.
"I'm not going to abandon you!" Graces exclaimed. "When we end I—you won't be a stranger to me."
Neville knew that wasn't true. Everything about their lives, their paths, pointed to that not being true. For months she had made a point that when they ended they were done and now... now she was involved. He pushed for this, a relationship that mattered, that had feeling, and now he had it. She did care; it wasn't just sex. She wanted to be with him and when they ended it was going to hurt her just as much as it was going to hurt him. He could see that now. She was right to keep her distance in the beginning. He was wrong for asking more. She couldn't keep the promise she was making to him now. She loved Draco and her family, she wouldn't give them up for him. They would eventually end and when they did they would act like strangers.
"I know," Neville murmured. "I know."
He wanted to touch her, needed to touch her. In moments like this he just wanted to remind himself that she was there and his. He held her and looked around them. The books, the room, even himself... Graces hid from reality. For all her declarations of knowing what was in store for them, for her own life, she ignored it, not facing anything unpleasant until she absolutely had to. She was so innocent in that way. Her parents probably did this for her growing up, they hid anything nasty and scary from her. They may have told her how the world was, but they certainly didn't let it touch her. He didn't have that growing up. He wasn't told the world was sad, he was shown it, he lived it.
He saw a crazed mother, an incapacitated father. His grandparents struggled with loss and renewed responsibility. This was Graces' first real taste of the real world without her mother and father as her human shield, and she had suffered greatly, but, even still, she was clearly unwilling to face it completely. In a way he was responsible for that. He was the one that made this world for them. The one she threw herself in. And she wanted no reminder that it wasn't going to last, that it was so fragile it could break at any moment.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, unsure what else to say.
"Why did you have to bring up us ending?" Graces sniffed. "What good does it do?"
"It doesn't do any good," Neville acknowledged.
"Do you think of it often?" She was looking up at him with such worry he couldn't have told her the truth if he wanted to.
"No. I don't."
Neville had a feeling that Graces knew better, but wasn't willing to dive into what the future held for them. At least not yet. Neville turned her chin upward and kissed her hard on the mouth.
"Let me start over," he whispered, kissing her again and running his hand down to her fine neck. "I love the gift. I can't wait to wear them. I think I may actually be able to fool people into thinking I'm a gentleman with them."
Graces gave him a small smile, but it was clear her thoughts were still with what he said earlier.
"And come Saturday I am going to spoil you rotten," he continued, wanting to divert her attentions further. "You're going to love it."
"What are we doing?" Graces asked, her eyes starting to sparkle with excitement.
"You keep asking me that and I keep telling you it's a secret."
"I'm hoping you'll forget. You are forgetful."
Neville narrowed his eyes and tickled Graces' side, causing the blonde to laugh exuberantly and try to move away from his arms unsuccessfully.
"Don't be a prat," Neville scolded. "I want our first date to be perfect. The best date you've ever been on."
"It already will be. I'll be with you."
They had a million problems. A million problems and he had a paper he needed to finish, but when she looked at him like that his skin flushed and his blood boiled to the point where none of the things he should be thinking about mattered. What did matter was her skin was soft beneath his touch. Her mouth sought his with the same need with which he sought hers. Her breath caught when he entered her and she held him like she never wanted to leave his side. And considering how little time they had, it would be a sin to waste any moment of the time they had.
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Hermione stared at the map before her, chest vibrating and mouth dry. She had been watching Neville for hours, it was now only two hours before the rest of the castle would be awaking and he was still with Graces Malfoy. Tucked away in a far corner of the castle beyond where anyone would see them.
She put the map down, unable to stare at it any longer and paced between the fireplace and the staircase in the common room trying to think of what to do. She still didn't know what was happening. The map only showed that they were together. Even as Hermione thought these thoughts she couldn't convince herself that nothing was happening.
She walked up to the 6th year boys dorm room with a half formed plan in her head and prayed that she was wrong about everything.
Harry awoke and almost jumped out of bed at seeing her.
"What's wrong? Is it Ron?"
Hermione yanked Harry back before he could go wake Ron from his own sleep. She had been thinking about Neville so much that she had almost forgotten that Ron had accidently been love potioned earlier. She probably should have offered to help with getting Ron under control so he would stop trying to find Romilda Vane. It seemed Harry had managed though, and in a way it may have been a good thing she had not offered to help, because he had to go to Slughorn.
"Ron's fine," she whispered. "He's sleeping."
Harry let out a relieved breath before his concern transferred to her.
"What's wrong?"
"I, well, I'm not sure," she answered finally. "But I was wondering if you wouldn't mind letting me use your cloak."
Harry frowned at her request. "Why?"
"It's... private," Hermione decided, knowing that Neville and Graces was still a sore subject for Harry. She didn't want him or Ron going to talk with Neville when she had no real proof of what was going on other than they were together at night... on Valentine's Day. It really didn't look good, and she had a feeling that this wasn't Neville's fault.
Graces was not the type to be above using a kind soul like Neville.
"I would only need it on Saturday," Hermione continued, praying that Harry would say yes. "It's very important, Harry. Please."
"First you ask for the map and now you're asking for my cloak? Just tell me what's wrong."
"I can't," Hermione whispered, her voice already getting tight. "Harry, I think I made a mistake a few months back, a very grave mistake, and I need to see something. Please, please let me use it and don't ask me why, at least not yet."
Hermione wiped away a few tears that had escaped her. She couldn't stop feeling like this was her fault. She had told Graces Neville liked her and then asked her to keep away from him and the blonde seemed to take that as a challenge, and now Neville, someone who had always been the kindest boy in the school, was possibly entangled in her web.
Harry studied her for a few moments before agreeing and sluggishly moving to his trunk to take out the cloak.
"Nothing happens to this cloak."
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She was a bad person. The longer she stood there, hiding under the cloak, watching Neville eat breakfast alone in the greenhouse, the more awful she felt. He was just sitting quietly looking over some old notebooks Professor Sprout had given him and eating a bacon sandwich with tea. This was Neville. She could just talk to him, ask him about Malfoy and then—
Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by owls flying into the greenhouse delivering a long white box with a red bow. The other Gryffindor jumped up from his seat, knocking over his cup of tea in his excitement and as he dug through his pockets for some gold.
Hermione soon found herself rushing to follow Neville as he shrunk the box and started towards the castle. She knew where they were heading before they even entered the castle. They were going to the same place she had seen him on the map the other night. He weaved through students and halls until they were in an abandoned part of the castle. Hermione looked around at the walls lined with portraits and almost slammed into Neville as he stopped and began taking off his cloak. Hermione blushed as she realized Neville was undressing. She was about to turn away when she realized he was wearing a different set of clothes under his uniform. He even had different pants under his dress pants.
He had changed. She hadn't noticed it so much as she did now. The clothes underneath his uniform fit him better, the colors complimented him more. It wasn't as though they were very fashionable clothes, they weren't, but it showed his changes. Neville had changed so much from the outside and she barely noticed it till right now. He even looked happier.
Neville resized the box from earlier and opened it up, revealing a dozen long stem roses wrapped in red ribbon. He examined each one before standing up from the ground and walking forward again. Hermione kept close, her heart banging in her chest with anticipation as they approached an old oil painting.
"Would you please ask Miss Malfoy to come to the door?" Neville requested politely, his voice shaking slightly, but a grin spreading across his face. The man in the portrait smiled and disappeared and a few moments later Graces answered looking exceptionally confused at seeing Neville standing before her.
"Happy Valentines Day," Neville greeted, holding the flowers forward and blushing crimson.
Graces raised an elegant eyebrow, but took the flowers. "Thank you."
She stood in the doorway, holding the roses and staring at Neville quizzically.
"Uh, may I come in?" Neville asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
"I'm trying to figure out why you didn't before."
Neville swallowed hard and looked down at his shoes for a moment before looking back up at her.
"It's our first date," he murmured awkwardly. "I, uh, wanted to do everything properly."
"I see." Her voice was slow and articulate. The blonde was clearly delighting in Neville's nervousness. "I take it my brother will be here soon then?"
"Wh-what?" Neville asked, his eyes widening in fear. "No! Did you—"
"I'm just kidding, Longbottom," Graces laughed moving out of the doorway. "Pointing out that properly would involve my brother chaperoning."
"Well, maybe not that proper," Neville laughed, entering behind Graces. Hermione followed them in and moved to the corner of the room, soaking in all that was around them. Did Graces have a private apartment at Hogwarts?
She watched as the blonde moved to the kitchen and searched the cupboards for a vase.
"This is my last vase, you know," Graces pointed out. "Any more flowers and I won't have anything to put them in."
"I'm sure you could get more vases," Neville chuckled, moving into the kitchen with her and helping to arrange.
"You're very good at that," Graces noted, moving out of the way so Neville could tinker with the stems.
"I know." Hermione had never in her life seen Neville wink and she wondered how close he and Graces were. How long had this been going on? He said this was their first date, but he interacted with her as though he was familiar with her. Well, at least now he was, before he seemed beyond nervous.
"You look lovely by the way," Neville continued, taking a step back to appraise Graces' outfit, which Hermione just realized was muggle. As was his own. Graces was wearing a very nice flowing, v-neck, fern-green dress with sleeves that went to her elbows and gold buttons that came slightly down the top. It was accessorized by a thin gold belt and a very beautiful necklace that Hermione was sure was magical.
"Well, I do hope you think so considering you sent it to me with the order to wear it for today."
"Do you not like it?" Neville asked, his confidence disappearing at Graces' obvious dislike. "It should be very stylish, I ordered it from a popular magazine and—"
"It's muggle," Graces stated flatly. "Why am I in a muggle dress, Neville?" She inquired dangerously, her eyes narrowing.
"Because, um, where we are going is, well, muggle." Graces pursed her lips, but Neville quickly continued before she could begin yelling. "You will like this AND it's the only way for us to be able to go somewhere together."
"I don't—"
"Graces," Neville cut off, moving closer to her and placing a calming hand on her cheek. "Please, trust me. Today is going to be perfect. I promise."
Surprisingly, Graces didn't argue any further and nodded her head. She still was giving Neville a warning look, but the Gryffindor didn't seem to pay it any mind.
"Are you ready?" Neville asked, grinning from ear to ear as he took off his watch and handed Graces' the other end to hold.
"The portkey is your watch?" Graces asked astonished.
"Yeah, it's only going to be active today though."
"I'm still in complete shock you managed to get a portkey."
"Friends in high places," Neville winked, waiting for Graces to take the other end. Hermione inched closer, doing her best not to touch either Neville or Graces as she placed a timid finger on the bottom of the watch's face.
"Ready?" Neville asked, holding on tight. Graces worried her lip for a moment before declaring she was ready. "Brilliant. Portus!"
Hermione held her breath as well as the cloak around her as they were all pulled away from the room and whizzing towards their destination. She felt ill with worry, unsure how she was going to land and remain covered and unnoticed at the same time. When they landed she stumbled right into Graces side and knocked her down, her cloak moving slightly off her, but surprisingly the blonde didn't seem to see her at all. She turned to see if Neville had seen her, but he too had been too preoccupied with catching himself to look up at where she was.
"You okay?" He asked, moving over to where Graces was and helping her up.
"Fine, I think you may have bumped me when we landed."
"I might have," Neville laughed. "I've never been good at landing with these things."
Graces smiled and looked around at the trees surrounding them.
"Is this it? You got me all dressed up for a forest."
"We just landed in the forest," Neville corrected, shaking his head at Graces' lack of faith. "We can't exactly pop out of thin air around muggles."
"You're right. That's how we get burned at the stake."
Neville ignored her comment and instead gestured for her to follow.
"So where are we going?"
"It's a surprise."
"Still!"
"Still," Neville confirmed, moving some branches so Graces could step through.
"You didn't exactly dress me for a hike," the blonde grumbled, needing some help to get over an array of twigs.
"We're almost there," Neville promised, releasing the blonde's hand once she had made it to a clearing.
Hermione followed a good distance away to keep from making any noise. She could hear people off in the distance and smell an array of foods. When they neared the forest's edge she knew exactly where Neville was taking Graces and hurried forward to see the blonde's reaction.
"Happy Valentine's Day," Neville exclaimed, once Graces stepped out from the trees.
Graces stood there for a few moments, looking at the scene before her and the people rushing past.
"Where are we?" She asked, clearly unsure of what any of this was. She took a step back as though being here made her uneasy enough to run, but Neville moved forward and took her hand.
"This, Graces, is a cinema."
Hope you all enjoyed! I can't wait for the next chapter!
ALSO, Graces pronounced [ˈgrɛɪ̯.siz] or Gray-seez. I know.. Still a weird name, but I wanted to make a point that it's not Grace OR Grace-es.