Nicole Stevens: Blood and Daggers

Chapter Sixteen: Blood and Tears

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Of course, I'll still do it. If it would help get Sirius out, then I'd be glad to," Harry said, though he sounded disappointed. "If he really makes you that happy, then I won't stop you. But be careful, all right?"

"Thanks Harry," I said, giving him a friendly hug. "I still want to be friends."

"Yeah," he nodded. I left him, walking the short distance to where Draco was waiting.

"So?"

"So he's still going to join, and he's okay with us going out," I answered.

"Thank the gods," Draco smiled.

"How quickly do you think this'll spread around the school?" I asked.

"I'll give them an hour," he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as we headed outside. "Asriel said to trust him, can you believe? I asked her this morning whether or not I should trust Potter to make a wise decision, and she said 'he is wise; he will make the correct decision.' Potter, wise? I was ready to call her mad."

We laughed together as we strolled around the Hogwarts grounds. It was a lovely Saturday afternoon, and none of the students wanted to miss it. In fact, they were all taking full advantage of the summer-like weather. Draco and I were no exception. I had longed for a day such as this for many weeks now.

"So, you know, I'm Slytherin Quidditch captain this year," Draco began, sounding a bit awkward. "And, I was thinking about games. You'll come, right?"

"Yeah," I answered, nodding slowly and trying to think of what he was getting at.

"But, if you come, who'll you sit with and cheer for?"

"That's a tough decision," I commented.

"But a necessary one," he replied.

"Well, then, I'll just cheer my head off for everyone and sit with," I paused, "e*E*rm, Ron." So I would be cheering for a Slytherin and sitting with the Gryffindors. How would that work out?

"I guess that'll be fine." He sounded worried, still.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"I still don't know if I can beat him," he said quietly, as if it were a dark secret.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, a little giggle escaping from me.

"It's not funny!" Draco said indignantly, all his worries forgotten.

"Oh, Draco," I sighed, my voice dripping with the ill-concealed laughter, "it doesn't matter if you win or not."

"It does so matter!"

"No, it doesn't. You don't have to win to be popular," I pointed out.

"And who doesn't know that?" he asked sarcastically.

"And if you don't win, then I wouldn't care," Draco glared at me, "I'd care, I mean, but you don't need to win to impress me."

"I don't really care about impressing you," he said, "I only care about beating Potter."

"So you don't care about me?" I asked as if I was insulted.

"It's not that, it's just that I want to beat him. I know I don't have to win for you."

I grinned up at him.

He leant down and whispered in my ear, "I win for you anyway."

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"Today, you shall all work in boy and girl pairs," Snape said, sounding sour. There was a groan from the class.

"And I shall partner you up," Snape declared. He sounded almost happy now. Obviously, student torture was his idea of a jolly day.

Draco covered my hand with his, whispering, "I don't think we'll have to be separated. He likes me."

"Hope so," I answered shortly.

"Longbottom and Bullstrode. Parkinson and--"

"Draco...Draco..."I heard her muttering hopefully from the desk behind me.

"Parkinson and Potter," Snape finished. "Malfoy and," he paused, frowning slightly, "Granger. Stevens and Weasley." He finished calling out the pairs.

Draco was looking mortified. He turned to me.

"He is definitely off of my Christmas list," Draco growled.

"But, you saw how he paused," I said consolingly, "and I don't think he wanted you to be with Hermione, but--"

"Hmph."

"But he had to because Dumbledore might've chosen the pairs."

"Argh."

"Fine. Pout if you must, but it makes you look immature," I stated mildly.

Draco stopped pouting, to replace his mood for a more Draco-ish*esque* one: utter indifference. It only served to make him look more boyish than ever, though. I thought a scowl would have been more appropriate.

I stood and kissed his cheek as Hermione walked over. Draco was reluctant to let me go, but as Hermione neared, he could only drop my hand and allow me to walk away.

I went to sit by Ron. He looked relieved, at least. It seemed he had been prepared for the worst. He even managed to smile at me as I sat down beside him.

"Not the worst it could be, eh?" he asked, grinning.

"No," I replied.

"Malfoy doing all right?"

"Why do you want to know?" I asked suspiciously.

"Oh," Ron blushed, "no reason, it's just--"

Ron was spared his explanation as Snape began speaking again. "Today you shall be brewing a Lymenylas Potion. Who can tell me what its uses are?"

As I had suspected, Draco raised his hand. Hermione sat beside him, scowling. She had long since given up hope of ever being chosen to answer a question.

"Mister Malfoy?"

"The Lymenylas Potion," I was in awe at how fluently the words passed his lips, "is a type of potion that is classified dangerous. It is a mood amplifying potion that can be helpful or harmful, depending on the brewer's intent."

"Ah, correct you are," Snape said. "Ten points to Slytherin. Now, you shall make this potion with your partner. But I must warn you, if your feelings are resentful, your potion shall only serve to do harm."

There was a sharp knock on the door. It opened, and the one man I had been least-looking forward to seeing stood in the doorway. Lucius Malfoy.

"Ah, hello Severus. Nice class, I do hope. I have come to take Draco."

It seemed as though Draco had not expected his father to come.

Lucius' cold, black eyes swept over the class, and I tried furiously to hide behind Ron. My movement, however, only served to cause Lucius to see me. He smirked, and I flinched, but refused to cower because of his glance. I sat up straight and stared insolently into the Death Eater's eyes. He would not meet my gaze again though.

"Draco, come," Lucius ordered.

Draco nodded mutely and grabbed his bag. I could tell he was trying not to shiver. As he passed my table, Draco dropped something onto the floor. No one noticed it but me. I waited for Draco and his father to leave, before stooping to pick the paper from the floor.

As I touched it, something fell out onto the stone. A fine, silver chain. It looked remarkably like the one Draco wore constantly. I took the chain and paper from the ground, slipping the chain into my pocket.

When I inspected the piece of parchment more closely, I noticed it was a scrap of paper with a hastily scribbled note on it.

It said:

Meet me tonight at two o' clock in the Potions corridor. I need to talk to you. Privately.

I love you,

Draco

P.S. Keep my necklace for me. Will you wear it to keep it safe?

I frowned and stuck the note in my pocket. The little silver chain was cool as my fingers touched it. I took it out and unlatched it, putting it around my neck. I hurriedly closed the latch.

Still no one had noticed. Good.

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"Where did Malfoy go?" Harry asked as we walked into the common room.

I shrugged. "I don't know. He didn't tell me anything."

"Right. Well, did you notice how Lucius was dressed?"

"No."

"He was wearing all black."

"And so was Draco. Who cares?" I shot back angrily. I was anxious about Draco.

Harry shrugged, "I just thought it was odd that he had a white mask sticking out of his pocket."

I looked amazedly at him, and whispered, "A Death Eater's mask."

Harry nodded. I shook my head and shrugged.

"I'm sure it was just a figment," I said uncertainly. Harry nodded, still as unconvinced as I was.

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I fingered the silver chain as I lie awake in bed. It had no ornament on it, and I thought that it must have been something Draco had just because he liked it. The cool metal slid across my fingers, as I tugged gently at it. It was very delicate, much like Draco looked. However, both the chain and Draco were very strong. I pulled harder at the silver, but it showed no signs of weakness.

It had been a minute since I had last checked the clock, I thought as I looked at the luminous red numbers. The clock flashed a message at me from below the time. It said: Yes, I'm still keeping track.

I smiled faintly. It was a clock. Of course it was still keeping track of the time. I knew that.

Again I looked at the alarm clock. Its message was: There are still sixty seconds in a minute. But the time had increased; it was one o' clock. Only an hour left until I was to go meet Draco.

Slowly yet surely, the time passed. And soon I found that it was time for me to go to the Potions corridor.

I stood quietly and hurried down the stairs. It was difficult not to yawn as I pulled open the portrait, stepping through and tiptoeing as quickly as I could down to the entrance hall. There, I stopped and peered into the shadows all around me until I was sure it was safe for me to sneak into the corridor. I ran down the hall to the door of the potions classroom. I would wait there until Draco came.

Draco came soon, and I had only waited for five minutes. I could not see his face in the half-shadowy light. He took my hand and led me down to the entryway to the Slytherin common room. He took me inside and pulled me into his bedroom, where Draco closed the door behind us.

"What is it? Where did you go?" I asked him.

Draco turned to look at me. I saw that his left cheek was bruised and his upper lip was bleeding slightly. He sat down on the bed silently. I noticed that his eyes seemed wet, and little drops of water were slowly dripping down his cheeks. Draco was crying.

I ran to him and sat on my knees on the floor in front of him. He buried his face in his hands, hiding his face in shame.

I pulled his hand away from his face and kissed his palm. I tasted blood and salt water. It was then that Draco spoke.

"Stop," he commanded hoarsely. I let his hand fall onto his lap. Then I climbed up beside him on the bed.

"Tell me what happened," I whispered.

"I can't."

"Of course you can."

"No. You'd hate me for it."

I shook my head and kissed him softly.

"I couldn't hate you," I told him.

"You would."

I think he needs a hug, my conscience declared.

And a large shot of tequila.

Draco turned to me and I saw exactly what he had been afraid of. It was the Dark Mark branded onto his left forearm. I extended my left arm, shoving up the sleeve on my robe to show him the identical black skull. He bit his lower lip. Not in a nervous way, just like he was confused.

"I have it too. It's not a big deal," I reassured him.

Draco's quiet tears continued to fall. He continually shook his head 'no'.

"That's not it. Voldemort--" he faltered, "Voldemort told me to kill..."

"He tells everyone that," I said, rubbing his neck with one hand and holding his hand with the other.

"No, no, he told me to kill...you. A-and I can't do it. If I d-don't," he choked, "I'll b-be killed and s-so will you."

I stopped massaging his neck and wrapped my arm around his shoulders. He sat up to nuzzle my neck.

I let him kiss my neck a couple of times, before saying, "It'll be okay, I'm sure."

Draco pulled away from me, searching my eyes for any traces of doubt. There were none. He nodded slowly.

His eyes were black in the darkness, and they shone with tears. He was trying his best not to cry in front of me. It pained me to see him go through such an effort. I had cried into his shoulder uncountable times. Should he not feel as comfortable doing the same? No, he was Draco. Draco didn't cry. It wasn't Draco's nature to cry. He usually squared his shoulders and acted fearless. That was one of his defining qualities.

I held his hand for several more moments before deciding that I had best go back to my dorm. But as I stood, Draco called me back.

"Could you stay with me?" he asked with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Of course," I answered, returning to him. He stood and wrapped his arms around me.

I smelled the saline on his shirt and I smelled some blood, but other than that, Draco's scent was still peppermint and night air. He was tenderly stroking my hair, wrapping his long fingers in my golden strands. Draco touched my cheek and lifted my chin to look at him. His cheek was almost blackened from the bruise.

"I could fix that for you," I said, indicating his cheek.

"Mm," Draco said, sitting on the bed. I took that as an assent.

"Where's your wand?" I asked.

"On the chair," he pointed at the chairs in front of the fireplace. I went and grabbed his wand.

"This might hurt a bit," I cautioned.

Draco shrugged. "It can't hurt worse than this."

"All right, then. Repartem tissio," I said, directing his wand at his cheek. There was a white flash of light and I saw the bruise slowly disappear.

"That feels much better."

"It should. You need sleep."

"So do you."

"Then I'm going to bed," I said, going around to the other side of the bed and lying down.

Draco lay close to me, holding me from behind by the waist. I think it was comforting for him.

I fell asleep almost instantaneously.

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"Ooh. Ow!" Draco yelped as I poked his chest.

"Oh, does it hurt there, then?"

"Yes," Draco said indignantly. "So, what were you saying?"

"I was saying that since we are both technically Death Eaters, then we should work together and think of a way to confuse Voldie." Draco chuckled at my nickname for Voldemort.

"Mm, that would be good," Draco agreed, twirling a strand of my golden hair and weaving it back and forth between his long digits.

He moved up onto his elbows to look down at me. We had lie on the bed together, chatting ever since we had woken up. It had been a comfortable affair, considering all events. Draco was battered all along his body, and I feared to hold his hand because there was a chance it might pain him.

Draco laughed softly as I prodded his arm, asking, "Does it hurt there?"

"Only when I'm awake," he answered, smiling half-heartedly.

I rested my weary eyes as he caressed my cheek and neck, gently scraping his fingernails across my smooth skin. I made a soft sound in my throat as he fingered the collar of my shirt, tugging gently at the first button, which was high on my throat. I felt the button give up its resistance and felt cool air on my upper neck.

Draco continued this process, until he had reached the point where the lacy edge of my underclothes barely showed. He left off unbuttoning my shirt, to begin softly tracing his fingers along my pale skin. I remained with my eyes closed, until Draco's voice broke the void of silence.

"Does this feel good?" he asked.

"Mm-hm," I murmured.

"And what about this?" he scratched his fine nails against my flesh so softly that it felt like butterfly wings were fluttering across my skin. Electricity shot from his fingertips (or so it felt) and I sighed happily.

"That feels nice," I replied, trying to ignore the waves of pleasure that swept over me as he drew his finger from the hollow of my throat down to the next closed button on my shirt.

"I don't know how I ever learned to do this--to be this way," he admitted quietly.

"Be what way?" I asked, not opening my eyes.

"Be this way," he danced his fingers over my chest for emphasis.

"You mean tender?" I wondered aloud.

"I guess, but...it's different. I mean; once I had a pet snake. I liked it, and I fed it and watered it and finally came to love it. I was tender with it, yes, but not this way."

And thank the goddesses for that, I thought as he brushed his forefinger along my shoulders.

"I don't know if I ever was this way before," he confessed. "Before you, all I know is that I was arrogant and higher than everyone else. But, you make me real. You make me human."

"But you don't need me for that," I told him. "You are human. And I love you for it. You're not a god, but you might be able to fool someone about that."

We both laughed, and I continued, "You are Draco Malfoy, as sure as the sun sets in the west and rises in the east. And I'm reasonably sure that's the way of things."

"I hope so," he said.

"You don't have to hope so. You have to know so."

"I think I do." He tilted my chin up and looked into my eyes. "And I think I understand it better now."

"I'm sure you do. So tell me what I get for my birthday now."

"Sweet sixteen," he sighed, "wouldn't it be lovely if we hid up in the Astron--"

"Ha, ha; I mean really."

"I wasn't joking," he said, shrugging. "It might be nice. Or maybe we could come back here. I could get wine and stuff."

"And we'd get wasted and dance the night away outside in the freezing cold wearing nothing but our underclothes? I think not, love. I like the warmth, thank you very much."

"No, I never said we'd go dance under the moon in our underpants. I just was suggesting...hey, you never know. You might like it."

"I'll forget that for the moment. So tell me what I get."

"I was thinking that it'll be something really beautiful."

"Well that narrows it down," I scoffed.

"And something unique; but I refuse to tell you more."

"Fine," I answered, jabbing my thumb into his chest again. "Don't tell me."

"Okay. I won't, then."

"Urg."

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"As if! Slytherin won't win this one. I know it. With Harry as team captain, there isn't even a small chance that Slytherin will win," Ron boasted as we headed out for the first Quidditch match of the season.

"Shut up, Ron," I said tonelessly, "I think Draco will win."

"Yeah, well, we all know your judgement is clouded by...other things," he nudged me in the ribs.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I yelled.

"You do," he accused.

"Hmph. Leave me alone, or I won't sit with you."

That made Ron pause. Hermione wouldn't sit with him anymore (No one knows, people, no one knows) and Ginny was just...not there.

"Fine," he answered.

We continued down the lawn towards the Quidditch field.

"Is it odd that they're having a match on Halloween?" I wondered aloud.

"Not really. We didn't last year, but I don't mind."

"Hm."

We had finally reached the gates to the Quidditch field. I headed in first, hopping up the stairs to get to the seats. There were people everywhere, and it was a mass of scarlet and gold on the whole side of the stadium. However, on the other side it was covered in Slytherin supporters waving their flags and egging their team on.

I saw one banner in the Slytherin stands that was green with silver lettering. It proclaimed 'Die Potter! Die!' in huge silver letters.

I pointed this out to Ron. He laughed a little and pulled me up to a pair of empty seats. I sat beside him and we waited anxiously for the game to begin. There were people screaming and whooping all around us. It was difficult to bear.

"Oh, Nicole, I forgot to tell you that we're having a party for you in Hogsmeade after this," he yelled above the noise. "The party'll be at the Three Broomsticks."

"Yeah, sure," I shouted.

There was a sudden burst of noise from the others in the stand, so I stood on my seat to see.

"They're off!" I called.

It was hard to see the seven silver and green players who sped past the stands. They were flying by at such an incredible rate that it was almost impossible to see who each player was. I did, however, notice Draco's platinum hair.

I hope he wins, I thought.

Why?

Because he'll be in a foul mood if he doesn't.

Maybe, but--my conscience cleared its throat a little--but depending on if you, um, get that birthday present he talked about...

Argh, I don't exactly want to have sex with him now, thanks. Later, maybe. Not now. I do have morals, after all.

You could fool someone, my conscience returned bitterly.

"And Gryffindor scores!" the announcer's voice roughly jerked me out of my reverie of thought. "It's ten to zero in the first five minutes!" The crowd roared. I frowned.

I watched fearfully as the players flew. Draco was zooming top-speed, weaving in-between the players, darting in front of Harry, and directing his team members. I cried out as a black Bludger pelted for Draco. He was too busy trying to tell his team what to do, and didn't see it.

"The Bludger!" I yelled.

It made no matter, though. The ball slammed into Draco's stomach, and he doubled over, clutching desperately at the handle of his broom. Draco was clinging to the broom tightly, trying hard not to be tossed off. He finally sat up, still rubbing his stomach where the ball had hit. There would be a big bruise there, if nothing else.

I saw Harry pelt downwards, hand outstretched. Draco realised it in the same instant as I had. He sped his broom to its full speed, and zoomed after Harry. Harry was riding the broom I had given him, so it was hardly easy for Draco to overtake him. But in the second I had looked at them, the snitch had vanished.

There was a groan from the Gryffindor crowd.

Another Bludger was aimed at Draco. One of the Gryffindor beaters had swung his bat as hard as he could at the black ball. It was going at a speed almost faster than Draco. He saw it at the last moment, and jerked the handle of his broom sideways. The ball missed Draco's face by inches, but it was batted back at him. It hit Draco in the head. I barely saw a trickle of red dripping from his temple.

And there was the snitch! Harry hadn't seen it because he had just been hit by a Bludger. Draco saw it, though. He whizzed downwards, his green Quidditch robes streaming out behind him. Harry's eyes were wide as he watched Draco make a grab at the Snitch.

A loud roar came from the opposite side of the stadium. I was cheering, jumping up and down on my seat. I was almost crying. Then it suddenly struck me that 'hey, I have a boyfriend down on the field who's just won; maybe I should go meet him.'

I jumped down from the seat and waved goodbye to Ron as I dashed through the throng of Gryffindor supporters. It was difficult, but I managed to slip in the gaps between people and end up at the front of the crowd. I didn't stop running there, however. I continued sprinting as fast as I could down to the field.

I finally stopped when I had reached the entrance to the pitch. I strode through it and was immediately greeted by Draco's embrace. He held me to him, and I buried my face in his shoulder. He smelled like blood and grass.

"Nicole, I'm not a teddy bear," he whispered after a moment. "You don't have to squeeze my head off."

"Oh," I blushed. I loosened my embrace on his neck.

"So, how was the game?" he asked, grinning down into my face.

"Mm...it was all right," I answered. "You could've done to watch out for the Bludgers, but..."

"Okay, I know I should have looked out for those. But I'm captain; they need me to tell them what to do more than they need me not to have a concussion."

We laughed and began walking up the lawn to the castle.

"So it's my birthday and I still haven't gotten a present," I said.

"No, you're right. And you're not getting one right now, either. You'll have to wait until we get to Hogsmeade to find out what you're getting," he said, smirking.

I made an indignant noise, "You aren't going to even tell me?"

He shook his head and smiled. "Pity, though. I think you'll like it, whether or not I tell you beforehand or not."

"Ron said that they're having a party for me at the Three Broomsticks," I told him. "Did you know about that?"

"Actually," he paused, "I did. I helped them plan it."

"Really?" I asked disbelievingly.

"Of course." He kissed me lightly on the forehead and we continued up to the castle, where we would change clothes and head to Hogsmeade.

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