Nicole Stevens: Blood and Daggers

Nicole Stevens: Blood and Daggers

AquilisRose

Chapter One: Harry Potter and Early Arrivals

This had been one of the most uneventful summers ever. Well, compared to what had happened last Christmas, a boring summer was considerably better. I had thought that a quiet break would be nice, but I was starting to rethink that theory.

I really had believed for some time that the quiet life was the life for me. I had enjoyed sitting at my two-story house in England, doing absolutely nothing. Sure, I would occasionally do a bit of homework, because Hogwarts seemed to be fond of giving homework over the summer. The summer was halfway over, and I was bored to tears. No homework needed doing, no essay needed writing, and no fun was to be had.

My parents had done their best to comfort me. They had said that if I was really so bored as all that, then I could go practice Quidditch. There was a problem with this suggestion however, Quidditch made me think of Harry Potter, my boyfriend. I had moped around for a considerable time, sad that I could not be with Harry. My parents then had concocted a new plan; I could go stay with some friends. My friends, however, were unable to invite me to their homes, because they lived in America.

As a last resort, my mother had invited my Aunt Celia, along with my cousins Shawn and Ria, to stay. Yet, there was a flaw in THIS plan, as well; I hated Shawn and Ria with a passion. They were egotistical snobs, who treated me like a mere passer-by. Well, that was usually how they treated me, unless Shawn was enjoying a good game of 'Let's See How Fast Nicole Can Run'.

But, back to the present day...

"But, Mom, why do they need to come? Why do they even want to? I mean, I know Celia's your sister and all, but--all of them?! Even Shawn? I can stand to be around Ria, because she ignores me. But, Shawn...Shawn is just mean," I said loudly.

"Nicky, dear, be sensible. They're your cousins. They love you. And call Celia 'Aunt'. She likes to be called that," Lydia Stevens replied. "While I understand that Shawn is not your favorite cousin, he is coming along with his sister and mother. Now, you will be kind to them, or I'll ban you from," she paused, thinking, "I'll take away your Firebolt, and you won't be able to fly."

"Go ahead and TAKE the stupid thing! I don't care! It's been months since I've flown, and I don't intend to start now. So there!" I stuck out my tongue as I turned and stormed out of the kitchen.

I stomped down the hall, throwing open the door of my bedroom. My room had been redecorated since last summer. Because I was so fond of books, my father had given me most of his private library to keep in my room. I had shelves upon shelves of alphabetically ordered books. My bedspread was red and gold silk, with gorgeous embroidered patterns. It had silken sheets that were crimson and gold. On top of the large blanket, was a matching pillow from India. It was beautiful, not doubt, but right now I was too upset to notice the pretty, Indian patterns on the bedspread.

I threw myself down on the bed, grabbing the Indian pillow and holding it to my face. I inhaled its cinnamon scent, before screaming loudly into it. The pillow muffled my frustrated yells, as I had known it would. This was what I usually did when I was angry or upset. As I got my first bout of screaming out of my system, I heard a sharp tapping at my window. I stood up dispiritedly, but once I saw the large snowy owl fluttering outside my window, I brightened considerably. Wasting no time in walking, I dashed over to the window seat and unlatched the lock on the window.

Hedwig, Harry's owl, soared in and landed on my shoulder, her foot outstretched. I untied the letter from her leg, and sat heavily on the window seat's soft plush, golden cushion. The snowy owl flew down from my shoulder, to perch on my jean-covered knee.

I quickly opened the letter and read silently:

Nicky,

I got your last letter. You say your aunt and cousins are coming? I hope they're nicer than mine-- ("They're not," I said into the silence before reading on.) Dudley and Piers Polkiss are horrible. Piers has been over almost everyday, and they've been playing 'Harry Hunting'. It's one of the worst games I could imagine. At least I'm fast, so they can't often catch me. I miss Hogwarts. I miss YOU.

It's been a rough summer for me, believe it or not. I think I've lost about five pounds just from running. Of course, Dudley's diet isn't helping either. Dudley is on a diet, so we ALL are. It's awful not having all of those big meals like at Hogwarts.

Have you heard from Ron or Hermione? Ron said he was going to ask Hermione to come stay the summer with him, so they might just be too busy for us. I owled Ron twice and the only reply I got was 'Hermione's doing really well. We're having a wonderful time. Thanks for your owl, Harry.' Although I don't know WHY he won't say more, I'm sort of glad he's not pouring his heart out to me about everything he feels because of Hermione. I have enough of those feelings for you, and I think my heart might burst already, even without his input of feelings.

I'm trying to not to get this all mushy, because I know you're not fond of sappy love-letters. It's difficult. I can't tell you how I feel without becoming fuzzy. I don't know what to say. Do you feel the same way? I know it sounds corny, but how else could I ask you? Argh, this is frustrating.

Please send me a letter back. I can't wait for your reply. I love you.

Love,

Harry

P.S. Don't laugh. I'm serious.

I laughed aloud, more because Harry had told me not to, than because of the letter's mushy quality. I suddenly had an idea. It was complete brilliance on my part.

"Wait here, Hedwig. I'm going to see if I can do something. It won't be long. I promise." I stroked her head once, before darting out of my room, into the kitchen where my mother was cooking dinner.

"Mom, can I ask you a question?" I hurriedly asked.

"You just did, but you may ask one more," she replied coolly. I supposed that this was because of my behaviour earlier.

"Okay. Can I invite Harry to stay with us until school starts?" I asked in a rush.

"I guess so. Go find your father and check to make sure. But, where will he sleep?"

I thought about telling her that he could sleep in my room, but I refrained, thinking about all of the questions that would arise if I did. "He can sleep in the guest bedroom next to mine."

"No, that's where Ria is staying. Shawn is upstairs, and Celia is too. There's not another bedroom. So, where would he sleep? On the couch? In Shawn's room, maybe?"

"Hmm...I'm betting that you'd say no if I asked if he could sleep in my room. Right?"

"Yes, I would say no. Well," she considered it for a moment, "I might be able to put a cot in there for him to sleep on. But under NO circumstances could he sleep in your bed," she added to the end as a warning.

"Thanks Mom!" I said, kissing her on the cheek. I ran outside, where my father was gardening.

Andrew Stevens, my father, hated gardening. He hated it more that I hated cooking. The only reason that he pruned the shrubs was because mother made him. And SHE only made him, because she wanted everything to be perfect for her sister's arrival. At the moment, my father was pulling Dragondyl weeds in the front flowerbed. As I neared, I heard him grumbling,

"...I can't believe Lydia would invite them! Celia, coming here! With those two little horrors that she calls children! I'll wager that I'm dead and gone by the time she leaves. Maybe Lydia will let me go to London for something or other...It would save me so much effort. Better than trying to be nice to that seducing, psychopath sister of hers. I still can't believe...!"

"Uh, dad?" I asked cautiously. I knew he hated Aunt Celia just about as much as I did. Celia had never been overly fond of my dad, either. She and her kids had been blatantly cruel to him.

He spun around, obviously worried that I was my mother coming to tell him off for talking rudely about her sister. "Oh, hello, Nicky. I'm just--"

"Don't worry," I reassured him. "I won't tell mom that you're dissing her sis. Do you know that I don't think she'd be pleased with you? After all, I just told her how much I hated Shawn, and she rambled on and on, so that now I don't even remember all of what she said. It's pathetic really. That's all it is. Pathetic. But what I came out here for was because mom just told me that if I wanted to invite Harry to come stay with us until school starts, I had to ask you. So can he? I'd be SO much happier if he was here."

"Can who, what?" He hadn't been listening, obviously.

I shook my head, annoyed and clarified, "Can Harry come stay here until school starts?"

"Yes, of course. Harry Potter, coming to visit us! Who would've guessed that my daughter would ever be the Boy-Who-Lived's girlfriend? It'll make up for having those dreadful..."

"Thanks! You're the best!" I turned around and ran back into the house. "He said yes!" I called to my mother as I ran through the kitchen, into my room.

Once I had closed the door behind me, I whispered to Hedwig, "My parent's said that Harry can come stay here until school starts. Isn't it wonderful? You'll be staying here for a while."

Hedwig hooted appreciatively, and I sat at my desk and began to scribble a return letter to Harry.

Harry,

I convinced my parents to let you come to my house and stay until school starts. Isn't that great? You'll need to ask the Dursleys, of course, but if they really hate you so much as you say, then it shouldn't be a problem. Please ask quickly! I can't wait for your reply. You always know what to say, unlike me, who is a bumbling idiot when it comes to letters. But I bet you could have guessed that from my previous ones!

No, I haven't heard from Ron OR Hermione. I suspect they're to busy doing...other things. It's not too bad not hearing from them, but I think I'd like to get an owl every once in a while. Oh well, you win some, you lose some. I figure that it's best just to let them have some time alone. They haven't gotten much peace of mind, have they? I only remember once that they snuck off to have some private time.

How are you? I hope you're doing well. Of course, with that what-his-name guy over at the Dursleys' you're bound to be miserable. I feel sympathetic for you. See, I'm sobbing? Not really, but I AM concerned about you, however unimaginable it may seem.

I'm doing fine, except my horrible cousins arrive the day after tomorrow. If you can get packed by tomorrow, we'll come pick you up at three 'o clock. Maybe that'd leave us some time alone before THEY get here. I swear, if Shawn levitates me ONE MORE TIME, I am going to beat him to a pulp. Or, do you think you could intimidate him, as you ARE the Boy-Who-Lived? Hmm...I don't know, but I think Ria will be trying to steal you from me. She's a real demon-girl, depending on whom you ask. I'm not letting her have you, so don't go getting ideas. Besides, she's not very nice.

I miss you too. If you wrote a sappy love-letter, I'm sure I'd still love it, even if it WAS corny. And, to answer your question, I do feel the same way. I guess it's natural. So, let's see. I love you AND I miss you AND I think Ria's got no chance. Yay for me. I think it's a record.

I love you, too. Kisses.

Love,

Nicky

P.S. I laughed. Oops.

I looked over the letter for errors, and upon finding that there were none to be corrected; I tied it to Hedwig's leg. She hooted softly, and I pulled open the window. The snowy white owl flew out, with one last hoot of good-bye.

"Fly quickly," I whispered as the sun ducked behind the trees.

*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*

"Mom! It's two-thirty! Shouldn't we be GOING now?" I yelled from my room.

I grabbed a light-blue miniskirt and a matching quarter-length shirt. Tossing my other clothes onto my bed, I slipped the skirt on and pulled the top over my head. It fitted nicely, and I grabbed a knee-length blue jacket to go over my clothes. Once I was satisfied with my appearance, I pulled my golden hair into a half-bun, leaving some bangs (fringes) out to frame my face.

There was a knock on my door, and I opened it. My mother was standing there, looking a bit cross. She stepped out of the doorway and said,

"Hurry outside. Your father's in the car. He's ready to go now."

"Okay."

I ran out the back door, hopping down the porch steps. My father was in our forest-green Mercedes, tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. I pulled open the back, left door of the car, and got in. My father turned in his seat and asked,

"Is your mother coming?"

"Yeah--at least, I think so."

We waited for about five minutes before my mother rushed down the front steps. She had a handbag in one hand, and a note in the other. As she got in the car, I demanded,

"What is that piece of paper?"

"What? Oh, this. It's just the address for Harry's house."

"All right. Let's go."

Many miles later, we stopped in front of the neatest looking house, on the neatest looking block that I'd ever seen. My father pulled up in front of the house and stopped. I opened the car door and jogged quickly up to the house. The door opened as I reached it, and I saw an extremely bulky man standing in the door.

"Are you Nicole?" he asked worriedly.

"Um, yes sir. I'm here to pick up Harry. Where is he?"

"I'm right here, Nicky." I saw Harry standing behind his uncle. A woman stood next to Harry, looking very nervous about something.

"Uh, do you need help getting all your stuff out?" The tension was killing me. There was an awkward silence, in which a pudgy boy came to stand beside the woman.

"She doesn't LOOK evil," he said incredulously. "How did YOU manage to get HER?" he asked Harry.

"I'm lucky. Bye, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia. See you next summer." He pushed past Vernon and dragged his trunk out. As Harry and I walked down the path, I waved goodbye to the Dursleys; who were still standing silently. I shot one last look over my shoulder, before the door shut with a snap and we were at the car.

My father had his window rolled down. As soon as we were standing by the car, he said,

"Hello, Harry. We're glad you could come. Nicky, help him get his school chest in the car."

"No, I was thinking of making him get it inside by himself, thanks," I teased.

He popped the trunk of the car and I helped Harry heave his school case into it. Then, Harry opened the car door for me, and I thanked him, before sliding in. I scooted over to the other side, so Harry could get in. He slammed the door shut as soon as he'd gotten in.

As we drove, I chatted with Harry about our summers. While he spoke, I let my eyes travel over his figure. His hair was as unruly as ever, but had grown no longer. He had grown nearly three inches, so now he towered over me. I would have to stand on my toes to kiss him. His face was sharper, with well-defined cheekbones, and brilliant green eyes. Harry's glasses were the same, though he had obviously repaired them again.

His body had changed too, I noticed. He was no longer a small, gangly boy, but a fully*-*grown teenage guy. His muscles showed, even with his baggy shirt. I wondered if I had changed as much. He saw me staring at him with rapt attention and asked wonderingly,

"What?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I was just thinking. Go on."

"Well, I was saying that I think you would be a great chaser. We need two, now that Katie and Angelina are gone. And we need two beaters. I don't know what we're going to do about all the empty spots," he said, his voice full of concern.

"Oh, you'll find somebody. It's not too big a problem. I'm sure that there'll be lots of people who'll try out for the team."

"I hope so. Hey, why don't you try out again?"

"Oh," I blushed. Last year I had not made the team, and I had been really upset, but I was over it now. Mostly. "I don't know. I mean...I'd like to, but I'm going to be really busy with schoolwork and stuff. I just don't think I'm up for it."

"C'mon. You'd make it. I know you will," he stated.

"Nah, I'll decide that later. So, is there anything else to report about your summer?"

"Not really. And you?"

"Um, well, I was bored to death. My aunt and cousins are coming tomorrow, and I don't know what else. It was really, REALLY boring. I did all my homework in the first week, and from then on, I just sat and twiddled my thumbs," I replied.

"Well, it sounds better than mine."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Impressive," Harry said as he walked into my room and saw the shelves of books. "I didn't think someone could HAVE this many books."

"Oh, most of these were my dad's. He gave them to me from his private library. It's not quite a collection yet, but I figure I'll keep adding on," I explained.

"What's this?" Harry exclaimed as if he had found a hidden treasure. "Aha! It's her diary. Let's see if she has anything interesting in here..."

"Stop! Don't you dare open that!" I ran over to him and tried to snatch the book from his hands. He raised it above my head, so that I would have to jump to get it. Harry let the cover drop open and began reading,

"Dear Diary,

It's been a week since school let out. I miss Harry already--"

"Stop reading! Stop that now!" I ordered.

"Dear Diary,

I'm bored. If Harry was here, I'd--"

"Argh!" I yelled, jumping up to get the book. He only held it higher and kept reading it aloud.

"Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry. Oh, wow Nicole. You've got five pages filled with my name. I didn't realize you cared." He put on a mock act of crying. I scowled and retorted,

"Yes! I have FIVE PAGES full of your name. Now if you'd just hand it OVER!"

He tossed it casually on the bed, wrapping his arm around my waist and bringing me to him. I gasped in surprise as his lips covered mine and I was swept away by the ecstasy of feeling his tongue in my mouth. I let my arms lock around his neck, winding my fingers in his black hair. He grinned against my lips, tightening his grip on me. I kissed him back, allowing his fingertips to travel up and down my spine enticingly.

The kiss deepened, soon becoming rough and even more passionate. Harry lifted me up by the waist, not breaking the kiss. He brought me so that my head was above his, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He lowered me slightly, but only enough so that our faces were level. We fell back onto the bed, him landing on top of me. I forced him to roll over, so that I was on top of him.

A sudden knock on the door abruptly ended our kiss. I quickly rolled off him, standing up and smoothing my clothes.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"It's me," answered a teenage boy's voice.

"Me? Who's me?"

"Shawn."

"Shawn?!" I cried incredulously.

The door opened, and Shawn stepped in, looking faintly amused. "Don't I get a hug?" he asked. "After all, I AM the one who convinced Celia to bring us here early."

"Um, yeah, right--"

"Who's that?" Shawn asked. I could feel his instant withdrawal as he saw Harry lying on my bed.

"Oh, Shawn, this is Harry Potter, my boyfriend. He's staying with us too."

"Alright" I could still tell that Harry's presence made Shawn uneasy. "So do I get a hug or not?"

"Uh, yeah." I walked over to him and hugged him awkwardly. As I stepped away from him, I surveyed Shawn's appearance. He was tall, taller than Harry was. His hair was silky and chocolate- coloured. Shawn had the same build as Harry, only Shawn was more filled-out. He was wearing not-too baggy jeans, and a tight black t-shirt, which would have made any girl OTHER than myself begin to drool.

"So, you said this was your boyfriend?" Shawn inquired after a moment.

"Yes."

"He doesn't look your type."

"Why not? And since when do I have a type?"

"Since always. And I think I'm more your type of guy, but that's just my opinion. I have a couple of friends who have been asking about you, Mark, Ry, Lance, the whole gang. They all want to know if you're free," Shawn said. His friends had never wondered about me before, so I suspected that Shawn had sent them my most current photograph.

"Ah, well you can tell them the truth then. I have a boyfriend, and I'm perfectly content being with Harry." How could I NOT be happy with him? I mean, when he kissed like that...

"You know, Shawn," Harry interjected, "I would really prefer if you didn't go around telling all your friends that they can have Nicole. It just doesn't sit well with me." I smiled thankfully at him, and he returned a No-Problem look.

"Well, I guess that's settled then. You know, Harry and I were in the middle of something...important. Could you just come back a little la--"

"Nicole! Surprise, surprise! And who might this be?" Ria had just pranced into my room, tossing back her sheet of auburn-red hair. She gestured interestedly at Harry, and I knew exactly what to say.

"Ria! What a delight! This is my BOYFRIEND," I enunciated the word 'boyfriend' clearly, "Harry Potter. I assume you know of him?"

"Of course," Ria answered snobbily. She went to Harry's side and sat down beside him. He looked up at her from his stretched out position on the bed.

"Could you sit over there?" he pointed at the other side of my bed. "I'm not really used to being this close to someone I've just met." He indicated how she was sitting about two inches away from him.

"Oh, yes." I could tell from Ria's tone that she was thoroughly disappointed.

"Um, like I was saying before I was so RUDELY interrupted, Harry and I were in the middle of something. Could you just go away for about half an hour? After then, I would LOVE to discuss everything with you. But, unfortunately, until then I won't talk to you. Now, please, GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!!"

"Fine," Ria said, stalking haughtily out of the room.

Shawn turned to me and jerked my chin up, so that I was looking him in the eye. "I'll be back in half an hour."

"Right," I answered meekly.

He turned around and stormed out of my room. I sighed and leaned back against one of the ceiling-high bookshelves, my hand on my forehead.

"Ugh," I grumbled, banging my head back into the books. "Now I've gone and made him mad. Mother's going to kill me."

"He started it. And what was he going on about?" Harry looked worriedly at me. "To me, it seemed sort of like what Malfoy did at the beginning of last year..." he trailed off, staring placidly at my face.

"I don't know what he was talking about. And you're right; it DOES seem like what happened last year. But, he's my cousin, and he'd never, EVER do anything like that."

No, he'd use force, instead of flowers, my conscience answered.

Shut up, I replied wearily. I don't need you on my case, too. Just leave me alone. Shawn is my cousin, and as such, he is in no fit place to want to date me. Now leave me alone.

I won't.

You will.

I won't.

You will.

I wo--

"So, where were we?" Harry had gotten up and come to stand by me. I shoved him back onto the bed and lie down next to him.

"I think we were right here," I kissed his nose.

"Oh, right."

*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*

I giggled as Harry rolled on top of me. He kissed my neck and began to move his lips slowly down to my shoulders. It felt so good.

A knock on the door, then two. The knocking became more impatient as each passing second flew by. Finally, I got up, just as the door was flung open.

Shawn stood in the doorway, looking peeved. "Are you finished yet? I wanted to talk to you."

"Um," I glanced at Harry, who was busily straightening his glasses. His hair was tousled and his cheeks had a pink tinge. I quickly thought of an excuse to break the silence, "I guess we're finished. Could you wait outside for a minute? I need to...do something. It won't take but a second." Shawn reluctantly left the door, and I shut it.

"He seems impatient," Harry stated once he had made himself presentable.

"He is, I think. I don't know what's bugging him, but when Shawn gets angry, it's not good. He flies into a rage, breaking everything in sight. I remember one time that it happened to me. I was only thirteen when it happened."

+Flashback+

"No, thanks. I mean, I really don't think I'm old enough. You know, you're fifteen and I'm thirteen, and I don't think it would work. Sorry," I apologized to Mark Baker, Shawn's friend. Mark scowled and left me standing alone in the hall.

Shawn stepped out of one of the doors, looking angry about something. He ran over to me and yelled,

"What happened?"

"I told him no. My mother told me that all teenage boys want from younger girls is to have sex with them. And I don't want to, so I told him no with a capital N."

"You idiot!" I cowered back against the wall as his tidal wave of fury was let loose. He slapped me hard across the face. "You were my ticket--" he shoved me back into the wall, "into his--" another slap, "GROUP!" A well-aimed push, and I lay sprawled out, leaving Shawn towering above me. His eyes burned as he surveyed me, lying in a crumpled heap on the glossy floor of the magic school.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I just didn't want to."

+End of Flashback+

"It was terrible. He gave me a nosebleed, a pair of black eyes, and three broken ribs," I explained as Harry looked at me in utter bewilderment.

"You don't think he'll try that again, do you?"

"No. Not likely, anyway. You know how he said that Mark had been asking after me? Well, I'd bet my life that it's the same Mark from before. It worries me that he's told them about me. I just don't like the thought."

Harry came over and embraced me tightly. I breathed his scent; soap, laundry detergent, and the eucalyptus water that I put on my bedspread and pillows. Harry always smelled good.

Leaning his head down so that he could whisper in my ear, he asked, "Do you want me to come with you when you go talk to him?"

"No. I'll be fine. I can take care of myself, and he wouldn't dare to do anything to me. Not with my parents and his mother here, at least," I hoped dearly that this was the truth.

"All right," and with that, Harry let go of me and opened the door. Shawn was waiting outside, looking no less irritated than before.

"You're ready?" he asked. "Good, let's go."

*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*

Outside of my house, there was a large grove of trees. I wasn't sure what kind of trees they were, but they smelled like cedar. In the centre of the coppice, a small clearing showed the cloudy-grey sky above. On other days, the clearing might have the warm summer sun shining through the branches of the trees, but today, the overcast sky was all that showed.

Shawn leant against a tall tree, inspecting me with interest.

"You're pretty," he said after a few moments of silence.

"I've been told."

"Mark would be glad to have you."

"I bet he would."

"He really wants to see you again."

"Not surprising."

"And since he's staying in London, I think that you should get together with him sometime," he explained.

"Maybe I should, but I won't. I love Harry, and like I said, I'm completely happy with him." I kicked at a small rock on the ground. It flew into a nearby tree.

"What if I brought him here?" Shawn suggested.

"I'd have Harry beat the crap out of him," I told him.

"And what makes you think he could?"

"Because he can."

"I doubt it. Your boyfriend doesn't look to be the violent type."

"You'd be amazed. He's done it before," I was reminded of how Harry had given Draco Malfoy a nosebleed after Draco had said that he loved me.

"Uh-huh. Right, I really believe you. And Celia," I noticed how he never said Mom or mother, "told me that I could invite Mark over for dinner." He smirked at the look of shock that was on my face.

"Mark Baker? Coming here? NO! He CAN'T come here!"

"Ooh, pity. Because he is coming. And he'll be here in, oh," Shawn checked his watch, "five minutes. I suggest you go change into something a bit shorter." He pointed at my skirt, and how it went all the way down to my knees.

"You are--"

"Very handsome. Now go change clothes."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I'll do the same thing to you as last time you turned Mark down," he threatened. I shivered, despite the moderately warm temperature.

"Fine." I ran up to the house, stomping up the porch steps and pushing through the back door.

Harry was sitting on the living room couch, with Ria draped over his shoulders. She seemed to be giving him a shoulder massage that included whispering seductively in his ear. He looked very uncomfortable.

"Ria, please don't--don't do that--not my neck--no--stop. Nicole!" he gladly acknowledged my entrance.

"Oh, don't let me interrupt," I teased. Harry gave me a pleading look, as Ria stood, seeing what would happen.

"I was just going to change clothes. So you have about five minutes. Hey Ria, did you know that Mark Baker is coming here for dinner?" I knew that she had a huge crush on him.

"Mark? Oh, I have to go change!" She ran away to the guest room next to mine.

"Thank you! Were you serious?"

"Yeah, unfortunately. I don't know HOW Shawn planned this out, but I know he did. I have to go change clothes, too. You know, so much rolling just wrinkles these blouses."

"Yes, I agree. I'll come with you; I don't want to chance running into her again."

"Okay."

*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*

"How does this look?" I asked Harry. I had on a long-sleeved red and black shirt, with a short black skirt.

"Well, I thought the outfit before this one looked good, too. But you still won't wear it."

"Okay. Hmm...what about this?" I pulled a lavender skirt and a matching quarter-length shirt from their hangers and held them up.

"Yes. Definitely the right outfit," he said.

"Right, then." I stepped into my closet and tossed the red and black clothes onto the ground. I looked at my left arm, flinching as I saw the ugly black mark. The Dark Mark. It had been branded onto my skin last Christmas, when I had agreed to be a Death Eater. The only reason I had agreed was because I would have been killed if I hadn't accepted. I had told only two people of the Dark Mark's presence, professors Dumbledore and Snape. Actually, Dumbledore had told Snape, so that Snape could teach me to ignore when the Mark burned. I hadn't told Harry.

I slipped on the lavender outfit and looked into my closet's full-length mirror. The skirt was only just long enough. Had it been an inch shorter, wearing it would have been impossible. I pulled a lavender sweater-duster from the hanger and slipped it on.

I heard a knocking coming from my room, and then Harry called, "One minute!"

I stepped out of the closet, twirling in a circle for Harry to see how I looked.

"So?"

"You look perfect."

"Okay, I guess we should go then. Who knocked?" I asked curiously.

"I think it was Ria, but I don't know." I nodded and we went out of my room. I heard a commotion coming from the front door, and I pulled Harry out to see what/who it was.

A tall, golden-haired teenager stood in the hall. He was about Shawn's height, with turquoise-blue eyes. His attire was a pair of loose khaki pants and a plain, tight, white shirt. He was a modern day teenage god. Mark Baker.

His beautiful eyes swept over me, lingering on my skirt and chest, before flicking up to my face. He smiled that perfect white smile that I remembered from my dreams. Mark let his eyes gravitate again to my upper body. I crossed my arms uncomfortably over my chest, and let Harry guide me over to Mark.

"Nice to see you again, Nicole. It's been too long. Two years, isn't it?" He said it with such politeness, such sincerity. But I knew it was an act. "And who might this be?" he asked, shaking Harry's hand.

"My boyfriend, Harry Potter. He's staying with us," I said glumly.

"Hello," greeted Harry. "Nice to meet you."

"Yes. Well, Nico--"

"Mark!" Ria's excited hello rang through the hall. She ran in, shoving me out of the way to get to Mark.

Ria hugged him, standing on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He grinned down into her face and wrapped his arms around her. Ria melted under his gaze, blushing furiously.

Harry and I began to walk to the kitchen. Ria and Mark followed after us, but as we reached the doorway, Mark pulled me back out of the kitchen. He tugged on my arm, pulling me to him. I looked into his face, frightened.

"I missed you," he whispered. "You wouldn't talk to me after that day. Shawn told me about what you had said. You should've known that it wasn't true. I was telling the truth when I said I liked you."

"What I said was true and we both know it. You would've slept with me and left me all alone again. I know it, Shawn knows it, and YOU know it. Now leave me alone." I tried to get out of his grasp, but he held onto me even tighter.

Mark hissed, "I don't want to hurt you. I never did. Why won't you believe me? What Shawn did was wrong. He shouldn't have hit you, no matter what you did. Now, I'm giving you another chance. You're old enough now, it wouldn't be illegal. You told me then that you couldn't because you were too young and I was too old. We're only two years apart; it's not that big of an age difference. Why won't you give me a chance?"

"Because you don't deserve it. I have a boyfriend in the next room who loves me, and who isn't just after me for sex. Now leave me alone." I wrenched myself out of his hold and hurried into the kitchen. Harry was sitting at the table with Shawn and Ria, looking worried about my sudden disappearance.

Mark followed me in, and we didn't speak for the rest of the night.

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