Nicole Stevens: Blood and Daggers

Chapter Twenty-Two: Harry

Tom grinned evilly down into my face. I felt faint, and confused thoughts raced through my head. I wasn't supposed to be here...had to leave...no, run...run away...

"Miss Stevens," Tom put his hand on my elbow and drew me closer to him. I could hear Draco's muttered curse from somewhere behind me, and that was when I absolutely knew it: we were all at the mercy of a deranged dark lord and there was to be no escaping. "Miss Stevens, you had better come with me. There are a few urgent--" his smile transformed into a smirk, "--a few urgent matters we must discuss. I was under the impression that you would wait in the room for me to return, so we could rationally talk things over, but apparently that was not to your liking, so it has been decided that you shall be removed to the dungeons."

"Well," I said, stumbling over my words at first, but gaining control, "well, I happened to accidentally come upon the door into this place," I waved a hand at the room. "I never meant to leave, you see, so I think it's unnecessary to take me to the dungeons. In fact, I was just about to--"

"No," Tom said, shaking his head and smiling as if I were a child. "You must follow me to the dungeons, where you shall be kept until further notice."

I thought vaguely of saying something cunning, but all I could choke out was, "I hate dungeons, Draco knows." Tom shook his head and led me out of he door through which Draco and Somnus had entered earlier. Once out of the boys' hearing, Tom slid his hand down to my wrist and pushed me roughly against the wall. He wore a silver bracelet on his wrist that dug into my skin, but my mind became entirely blank as Tom began speaking again.

"You were warned--I took time to warn you. You did not care. Never even stopped to think?" he asked, noting my open-mouthed expression. "I do not believe that, and it is a lie. You wanted to leave this hellhole. I do not blame you. Would you like to know why," he pressed my wrists into the wall, and I thought I heard something snap, "I chose to leave you instead of babysitting you like Lucius wished?" I whimpered in pain; my wrist was definitely injured. "I chose to leave because I thought you might like to rest without the obvious discomfort of having me lingering. I was thinking about your personal interests." Tom looked into my eyes, and a sadistic glint appeared as he saw my tear-rimmed and pain-filled eyes.

"I told you I never meant to--" but I had to stop because he increased the pressure on my arms. "I told you I didn't intend to leave, but..."

"I do not believe you because I know now that you are not to be trusted. Now come." He pulled me by the arms, thankfully, and took me down, down, down. With every step, I could feel the cold sinking deeper into my skin, and before long I could feel the cold gnawing at my bones. It attacked me as I struggled to keep pace with my long-legged companion.

"Aha, here we are," Tom spat, and I could dimly see a cell door being opened. He shoved me inside, and I flung my hand out to catch myself. The cold stone was unyielding, and with only my hand to break my fall, I landed rather ungracefully. The door clanked shut, and I heard the sharp tap of Tom's receding footsteps as he left me alone in my dark cell, where I was blind in the darkness.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

I had managed somehow to crawl over to the small cot in the corner, and yet again managed miraculously to climb into it and yank the mildewed blankets over my shivering body. Once left utterly alone, I had finally been forced to see the truth, which was that I would have no chance of escaping from this cell.

When I had come to that conclusion, I was almost glad to sink into the unconsciousness that consumed me. It was a welcome blackness, rather than the dark and dank prison I was held captive in. Knowing that I was safe at least until Tom came to fetch me (or rats ate me, which was unlikely); I had been able to sleep almost easily.

However, when I was awoken by being shaken roughly by the shoulders, I was not the most pleased person on the earth. My eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, but even so, I could only just make out the eyes peering down from the face that was hovering above my own.

"Get up," a rough voice commanded.

I shook my head and yawned slowly, "Nah...where're we going again?"

"Come." The man yanked me to my feet, and I stood wearily. It was with a great reluctance that I had woken at all, and now I was being forced to come...would the injustice never end?

The man, who was burly, led me through a twisted maze of passageways and tunnels, up staircases and through doors, but never once pausing to rest or to allow me a break. And, when he finally stopped, I found we were standing before a large pair of doors, which had carvings deeply etched into the dark mahogany. I inspected the intricate cartouches for a moment, before the doors opened from inside and I was led into a lavishly beautiful room that I knew upon sight. This room could only be the ballroom, for it had an ornate gold chandelier dangling from the ceiling, gorgeous cream and gold marble flooring, and mirrors on every wall. I walked into the centre of the room, mesmerized by the paintings on the ceiling so far above my head. The painting was of cherubs and baby angels, with gold hair and gleaming halos, each playing in and throughout the clouds. I looked at their bright smiles, and thought, This is completely out of place.

"Miss Stevens," a silky voice drawled from the doorway behind me. I turned around quickly to face Lucius Malfoy. He stood at a respectful distance and bowed to me, which I returned with only a nod of my head. "I do apologise for startling you."

"I don't see why," I said. "I wasn't surprised to see you." He smiled, showing his perfect teeth and displaying how charming he could be if he wanted to.

"Very well, then. I notice you were observing the paintings," he said softly, coming to stand by my side. "Why?"

"Because they are very beautiful," I answered truthfully. "Or, perhaps it was for lack of anything better to do. Your choice, really, as to which you would like to believe."

"The reason I had you brought here, was because I wanted to speak with you about a matter which has troubled me for quite some time, and continues to. It concerns my son. As you may know, he is my only child, and I want only the best for him." I gave him a sceptical look. "I know that you disbelieve me, and I cannot blame you for it. In truth, I never wanted Draco to become a Death Eater. I wanted him to live his own life, make his own decisions, and be a better man than I. I had no choice in the matter, however. Our Lord was determined to take my son into his service."

"Apparently," I said.

"And, though that battle is not yet over, I still wish the best for Draco. If he truly wants something, I allow him to have it. I would buy him everything, if only he would change his mind about this one issue."

"Which is?"

"He has assured me that you will take his hand in marriage, if and when he asks you. I would buy him anything, if he would choose some other woman better suited," Lucius admitted bitterly. I realised how difficult this was for him to say, and kept quiet. "But he will hear none of it. If he chooses to ask you to marry him, I will not interfere. But, what concerns me most is why he loves you, as he most certainly does, and if you love him."

I blinked slowly, looking at Lucius' sharp profile, much like Draco's. "Well, I suppose I love him. Of course, I dislike what he does, being a Death Eater and all, but I can't help that. He can't either, it seems. I would probably agree to marry Draco, if he chose to ask me, but it seems like when I begin to trust him, he suddenly turns on me, and I am left either mentally or physically injured."

Lucius looked at me, sizing me up. "I understand."

"I'm quite sure you do. I know you hate me; I'm not particularly fond of you, either. But, I love your son, and I will never hurt him intentionally. The times I have hurt him have been completely accidental. And, if you are willing to accept me into your family, then I'm willing to be your daughter-in-law."

He nodded slowly, and then returned his gaze to the ceiling, saying, "But you must promise me one thing, and then I will ask no more of you."

"What?"

"Keep Draco safe."

"I will. I promise I will."

Lucius nodded, and then turned to go, but as I spoke he stopped. "You know, if you had chosen not to be a Death Eater, you would be a really noble man."

He looked at the floor for a moment, before continuing out of the ballroom. I watched the doors shut, and then looked back up at the mural on the ceiling. Then I lay on my back on the marble floor, the angels staring down at me with tears in their eyes.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

I had fallen asleep on the floor of the ballroom. When I awoke, it was only because of the soft kisses I felt on my neck and lips. My eyes flickered open, and I found myself staring into the soft grey eyes belonging to Draco. He sat on the floor beside me, cradling my head in his laps.

"Morning," he whispered.

"Mm...what time is it?"

"About six o' clock. My father let me in about an hour ago. He said you two had spoken..."

"Yeah."

"I hope it wasn't too painful."

"You needn't worry about the painfulness of the conversation. At least, not for my sake. I think I was paining your father more that he was paining me." I sat up, and Draco pulled me onto his lap, as I wrapped my arms around his neck and cuddled against him.

"He said something about noble men?" Draco gave me a slightly curious look.

"I told him he would have been noble had he not been a Death Eater."

"You're not getting along with my father are you? My mother doesn't even get along with him." His voice sounded slightly incredulous.

I shrugged slightly. "I don't know, but we came to an agreement."

"He told me I could marry you," Draco whispered into my ear.

"I know...amazing, isn't it?"

He nodded and wrapped a few strands of my hair around his finger. My dress, which I had been wearing for probably two days, was wrinkled, and I was sore all over.

"What about Potter?"

"What about him?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?" I asked, laughing quietly.

"Nicole, he's here."

My eyes widened and I fell off Draco's lap. I scrambled away from him, and stood, up, leaning against the mirrored walls. Draco had stood, and his brows were furrowed, as if he were thoroughly confused.

"Nicole, what is it?" he asked worriedly, taking a step toward me. "What's wrong?" I shook my head.

"I...I...take me to him. I need to see him. We'll work something out."

"Work something out?" Draco smirked slightly. "What exactly do you need to work out?"

"If either of us is going to stay alive, he and I must devise a plan. Where is he?" Draco frowned and shook his head.

"I'm not supposed to tell you."

"Who told you not to tell me?"

"Riddle," Draco answered, shaking his head. "You know I can't tell you."

"All right then. Well, I'll see your father. Surely he'll--"

"No," Draco answered. "No. If you want to see Potter, you'll have to ask Lord Voldemort or Riddle."

"Then take me to Voldemort." Draco shrugged and we began walking out the doors, but as we reached them, he stopped, turned to me and kissed my cheek. Taking this as a good luck gesture, I strode boldly forward and threw open the doors.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Draco took me through many halls and up twisting staircases. He led me well, unfaltering even as the darkness deepened. Draco glanced at me when he thought I wasn't looking, and I could see his eyes were full of sadness. But I would not back down. This was my decision, and I had made it. There was nothing else for me to do.

It seemed as if hours had passed, but in truth it had probably been only a few minutes before we arrived at a doorway. Draco opened the doors, and I walked through them, trying to master my squirming insides. I heard the doors close, and saw that Draco had left me. Was he trying to abandon me? No, I knew that wasn't true. Most likely, he was forbidden to enter.

This room was cosy and inviting, and it was styled in a Victorian motif. There was a chaise longue by the fire, which was cackling merrily, and two comfortable-looking velvet chairs. Also, bookshelves lined one wall of the small parlour and stretched to the ceiling, where a crystal chandelier hung from a gold chain. And, other than the long-stemmed rose in a vase on the desk, I was the only living thing.

Thinking it best to be comfortable, I went and sat in the chair by the fire, putting my feet up on the footrest. The fire had been stoked before I had arrived, I presumed, since it was radiating heat and burning well. I wondered who had been here before me, but decided it wasn't important. The only thing I needed to do right now was to think. Actually, thinking had become one of my strong points. I could problem solve much better that I had last year, and I was much less inept when it came to devising plans and escape routes.

If Harry was here, which he undoubtedly was, then he had obviously been tricked into coming. What had they used to get him here this time? Voldemort never worked the same way twice, so he wouldn't have sent another ransom note. What else could he have used? I was sure Lucius hadn't retrieved him from school, but there was nothing else I could come up with.

My pondering was interrupted as the door swung open and I heard footsteps crossing the plush red carpet. I looked behind me to see who had come, but it was certainly not who I had expected.

It was Harry.

"Harry," I exclaimed gladly, standing. But Harry waved a hand and gestured for me to sit down again. "How long have you been here?" I asked next, sitting.

"About a day," he answered brushing a stray lock of hair for his forehead. His scar seemed to glow in the firelight.

"Well, how are you?"

"Fine, I suppose."

"How did you get here?"

"Oh," he paused, fingering the sliver bracelet around his wrist. "They sent me an owl saying they had kidnapped Ginny and you, and then I met them on the Hogwarts lawn. They took me in a carriage."

"Who is 'they'?" I asked.

"The Death Eaters."

"Was it Lucius?" Harry shook his head, looking deep into the fire. "Who was it then?"

"I think it was the Lestranges," he said.

"Oh...Well, how are we going to get out of here?" He returned my question with a blank stare.

"Out?"

"Yeah, out. You don't want to stay here, do you? I was thinking, maybe we could get out by just walking out the front doors, but..."

"I heard they have too many traps."

"Oh, come on, Harry. You've escaped lots of traps. Surely Malfoy Manor doesn't have too many for you to handle." He shook his head.

"No, I know that is impossible. I have seen their lawn, and it is impassable."

"Well, how else do you think we could get out?" He shrugged. "Harry, are you tired, or something? You haven't been acting normal."

"Tired? Oh, yes. I am exhausted."

"Well, then, maybe you can sleep on the couch thing over there," I pointed to the chaise. "And I'll just sit by the fire. If they want either of us, you can just wake up."

"No, I think I should probably go." He stood up, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"But you don't know the way."

"Well, I know how to get to the dungeons, and I can sleep there."

"No, it's too cold in there. You can stay here and I'll read, or something." Seeing that I would not let him leave, Harry nodded and sat back in his chair.

"I'll just go get a book," I said, and Harry nodded mutely. I stood and went to the bookshelf, searching for a book that looked interesting. There were some with titles like, How to Be an Evil Overlord in Ten Simple Steps, Necromancy Today, and, my personal favourite, So You Want to Rule the World and Kill Everyone. I chose the book on how to become an evil overlord, thinking that it would at least be good for a few laughs.

When I returned to my chair, I sat and propped the enormous book on my lap and began reading.

Chapter One, How to Cast Spells

Step one, draw wand hand upward. Step two, make an evil face. Step three, say the magic words and draw your wand downwards.

For step one, you must begin by holding your wand tightly in your wand hand.

It grew droning after that point, so I cast the book onto the footrest and looked into the fire. The flames had died a little, and small sparks winked from beneath the ashes. The embers glowed and cast the room into a darker light. I looked at Harry, whose eyes had closed sometime during the half hour that I had spent choosing and reading the book. His chin rested on his chest, and the dying fire's light cast his face in a bloody light. His eyes looked sunken-in and hollow, and his cheekbones seemed sharp. It was as if I were seeing him through a red-tinted glass. As I watched him, his eyes flickered open, and they glowed red. I squeaked, but then realised that the red was only from the light, and Harry's eyes were still as green as ever, but...there was something different.

"I must be going," Harry said, standing.

"No, it's all right. They haven't come for you yet."

"No, no. I will be right back. Just wait for me here." He stood and left the room quickly, seeming to change as he left. I shook my head, trying to forget the image of Harry's red-coloured eyes.

"I am not going mad," I declared.

Or am I? I wondered.