Nicole Stevens: Blood and Daggers

Chapter Twenty-Five: My Angel

And then, we saw it.

A jet of brilliant green light blasted the ground in front of us. Harry pulled me to him, shielding me from the fiery light that had just burnt a deep hole in the ground.

"Escaping?" a silky voice asked from the other side of the courtyard. I yanked myself out of Harry's grip, spinning around to face the antagonist. Riddle stood at the large metal gates, which were our only way out. He had a wand pointing lazily at me, but it seemed as if he couldn't decide what to do to me. I hoped his aim was horrible, because even from ten metres away, he could still kill me with a flick of his wrist.

Harry pushed me aside, and I fell against the large wall of bushes enclosing the square garden.

"Leave her alone," Harry said, his voice deep with rage and inner turmoil. "She never did anything to you." His voice lowered threateningly. "And if you hurt her, if you even lay a finger on her, I will kill you with my bare hands."

"If I hurt her too much, I will kill myself," Tom informed Harry. "I am feeding off of her." Harry glared at him, daring him to prove it. "Come here, girl," Tom beckoned me to him.

I started forward, but Harry shook his head and pulled me back.

Tom looked politely curious, "I thought you wanted proof."

"I do," Harry spat.

"Then let her come to me, and I will show you."

"How do I know you aren't lying?" Harry returned accusingly.

"You don't," was all Riddle replied.

"Harry, let me go. You heard him, he can't hurt me or he'll die."

Harry glanced at me, closed his eyes resolutely, and nodded once. I walked over to Tom, and he smiled his snake smile at me. As I neared, he came forward and locked his fingers around my wrist, pulling me close to his body, so that I was facing Harry with my back pressed against Tom's chest. Tom slid his hands over my shoulders and to my chest, beginning to unbutton the ill-fitting shirt I had stolen from Draco's wardrobe at the manor. Only a few buttons down, and the shirt began sliding off my shoulders. Tom stopped and whispered, "Cold?" in my ear. I scowled, but Tom had continued speaking to Harry.

"Can you see her skin?" Tom asked, scraping his fingers along my delicate clavicles--I had lost a lot of weight since the Coming had begun, and my collarbones had become more prominent and defined.

"Yes," Harry answered darkly, still glowering furiously at Tom.

"And do you see these marks?" Riddle asked drawing his fingertips lightly down my chest, stopping where the button still held fast through the buttonhole.

"What marks?" Harry questioned suspiciously.

"These," Tom snapped his fingers, and my skin began to glow with a dull white light. I looked down, and was astonished to see pale scratches forming a thin web over the centre of my chest, above my heart, and then the light emanating from my skin dimmed, but the scrapes remained. "I," he told Harry in a hiss, his breath stirring my hair, "made these a couple of months ago, when I met this inquisitive and fascinating young woman. I brought her to me, and then performed a power-transferring spell on her. It is what some would call the Coming. I am the Coming. These were hidden because I wanted them to be." He laughed cruelly. "It is only a matter of time before you die," he informed me quietly. "I'll stay here and watch you as you say your goodbyes. Well, maybe you'll see each other again soon. After all, you're both going to die." He gave me a shove that sent me reeling toward Harry. I stumbled into Harry's arms, my shirt slipping down farther over my arms. He caught me, and picked me up in his arms, before finding the effort too exhausting and slumping against the shrubs; he sank to his knees.

"Nicole, listen. I'm really tired. I don't think I can make it. I need sleep." Tom laughed as he heard what Harry was saying. "Can you sit?" I pulled myself out of his arms, sitting by his side. "Good." Harry lifted my chin, and kissed me softly.

"Harry--" I whispered, but he put a finger to my lips.

"Shush. You need to act like you're going to faint. If he thinks we're both weak, he won't think we could escape. I'm tired, yes, but I'm not that tired. I'm going to kiss you again, now, and then...I'll tell you what we'll do next." He kissed me again, pulling me closer to him and rubbing my cheek with his thumb. His lips were soft and gentle, but I could tell he was really serious about the kiss, and that this part wasn't play-acting. He pulled away, his green eyes shining from behind his glasses.

"Now, I want you to cry like you'll never see me again." I frowned, not at what he said, but at what he didn't say--it was likely we really would never see each other again after this night. Tears came to my eyes--I wasn't acting now.

"Harry, I love you so much," I whispered, my hidden sobs echoing in every syllable I spoke. "I want you to know that--that I'll never forget. I'm sorry for everything I've done, and I forgive you for everything you've done."

Harry nodded, his eyes sombre. "I love you too. I always have. I knew, ever since the day I ran into you at Diagon Alley that you were the one I'd always love. There are things I have never gotten the chance to say, and I probably will never get to say all of them, but--this summer, when I stayed with you, I watched you while you slept. The moonlight was falling in shafts onto your bed, and your face was wreathed in shadow. You reminded me of an angel--I wanted that to be what I saw every night for the rest of my life. Even if your face grew old, and your body weary, I could still love you--and would still love you--because you are my angel. My angel, my love, my everything--Nicole, I love you. If we both die tonight, then at least I have said that. I could say so much more, but it would take decades. But, I want you to know that I--that I forgive you for anything and everything, and that I wish I could replace all of those bad memories with good ones, but I can't. And, if you live through the night and I don't, then I want you to know that tomorrow always comes, and when everything seems to be looking the worst, know that I'll always be there by your side, and that it can only get better from there. I will love you--in saecula saeculorum."

Tears spilled onto my cheeks, and I saw Harry's eyes become wet. "Harry--" my voice broke, and I began crying. Harry hugged me to him, and I buried my face in the soft, good-smelling fabric of Harry's shirt. My salty tears streaked Harry's shirt with water, but neither of us cared. "Harry," I said, my voice muffled through his shirt. "Harry. I love you. I love you like the rose loves the sun--like the lips love the kiss. Harry, I just want you to know, I will always love you." I looked up into his eyes, and our lips touched softly. Harry planted tender kisses on my forehead, cheeks, and neck.

"Back to getting out of here," he whispered finally. "I'll hold him off, and you'll run for it."

"Harry, no--" I pleaded softly. "No--don't make me leave you."

"Yes," he said in a heart-wrenching voice that made my heart ache. "Yes, you have to go without me. I can stay here and get rid of Riddle."

"But I love you--I can't leave you here. Not by yourself--"

"Yes."

"B-but I--"

"Go."

I finally relented to leave, but I had to give Harry something--he needed protection. "Take the Sword, Harry. It's Dumbledore's; he would want you to have it." I handed him the sword. He took it by the hilt, giving me a falsely tired glance. "I love you and I know you can win."

"And I love you."

I stood, leaving Harry's side and walking back to Tom. Tom smirked at me. "Such sweet sentiments. Ready to see your precious hero die?"

"You are utter slime."

"I should take that as a compliment." He extended his wand, directing it at Harry. "Come on, Potter. Stand up and fight me--like a man." Harry stood in mock exhaustion.

"Riddle," Harry panted. "I want you to know--I hate you." Harry whipped out his wand, but Riddle was faster. As Tom shouted at spell, Harry shouted at me to leave. I burst through the gate, running down the pathway at an incredible speed.

The road was gravely, but it was a Muggle road. I tripped and fell, but forced myself to get up and go on. As I ran, tears flowed freely down my cheeks, for what I had lost.

I knew I was leaving a part of my heart back at Malfoy Manor.

It was about fifteen minutes later when I came to a Muggle Petrol station and fountain shop. I stopped outside the door, buttoned my shirt up to cover the nasty spidery cuts, and the opened the door of the fountain shop. It was not very busy, and the clock on the wall said that it was only six o' clock in the morning. The clerk took one look at me, before tossing her curly hair back and blowing a large pink bubble of her bubble-gum.

"Hey," she greeted. "You look an awful mess; are you okay? Do you need some help?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you. How much is a glass of water? Wait, no, never mind. I don't have any money." I sat on one of the old bar-stools.

"Here, you can have a cup of water; I'll just tell my boss I bought myself a drink. Do you need some help, honey? Maybe I could call someone to come get you?" The girl seemed genuinely concerned about my well-being, so I decided to make her feel better and tell her a story to keep her concern at a minimum.

"I don't have anyone," I lied. "I'm on my own."

"Oh. Well, what happened?"

"I was--painting a house for a friend, and I fell down the ladder. Took an awful fall. But, I'm okay, now. Do you have a restroom?"

She pointed to a pink door at the back, "There's the women's restroom."

"Thanks." I stood and headed into the restroom. When I stepped inside and took a look in the mirror, I could hardly believe what I saw. My face was dirty, and where my tears had flown, pale skin showed through. My eyes were puffy from lack of sleep, and my lips were cracked, with pinkish-purple bruises. Yeah right. I fell off a ladder. Looks like I was beaten up.

I turned one of the pink knobs, and warm water streamed from the faucet into the marble basin. I dipped my hands into the water and washed my face, gently cleaning off the grime that stained my face black. Then, I turned off the water and grabbed a few paper towels from the dispenser, drying my face. When I took another look in the mirror, I was surprised to see that I looked better already, if not more like myself. Tossing the dirty napkins into the rubbish bin, I went back out into the little drink shop.

The clerk was still sanding there, but a glass of water had appeared on the counter in front of where I had been sitting. I sat on the stool and took a sip of the cool and refreshing ice water.

"Thanks a lot," I said.

"No problem. You're from America, right?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. So, what're you doing here?"

"Just passing through. I've been having some problems at school, so I took a mental-health holiday, travelling around Britain. My boyfriend--" I faltered. "His name is Harry. He's waiting for me."

"Oh?" she peered out the glass door.

"Not here, but back at school. He wanted to come, but something got in the way."

"All right. Well, do you want to stay here for a while longer? We have telly," she gestured at a television mounted up on the wall behind her.

"Sure."

She took out a remote-control, and turned on the T.V., flipping through channels.

"Stop," I ordered as I saw a familiar picture on the screen. It was a picture of the Malfoy gateway that I had come through only a short while ago.

"...It seems that a gas explosion is the cause of the damage. There were no reported casualties, though authorities claim to have seen something running down the path. Any information regarding these claims should be reported to this station immediately. The Ministry of Defence..."

I sighed heavily. "Okay, keep going."

"What is it?" the girl asked me. "It looked like you had seen something familiar for a second."

"What? Oh, no. I just remember seeing that gate."

"All right." She continued changing the channels, finally settling on a morning talk show.

I became lost in my own thoughts as the T.V. interviewer droned on about the latest pop sensations. Was it possible that Harry wasn't dead after all? What if that figure the police thought they saw was Harry? He might've killed Tom... but, I felt the same. At least the thought that he might still be alive filled some of the part of me that I had left back at the manor.

"Miss?"

"Yeah?" I asked, snapping out of my reverie of thought.

"What's your name?" the clerk asked.

"My name is--Nicole."

"My name is Lindy."

"Nice to meet you, Lindy. I really have to go now. Could I have this water to go?"

"Yeah, sure." She filled a foam cup full of water and handed it to me.

"Thanks," I said. "Bye."

"Bye."

I started to walk out the door, but something stopped me. I turned around. "Lindy, if a boy comes in here and he has black hair, glasses, green eyes, and a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead, could you tell him I was here? And that I'll be going to a car-rental place?"

"Of course."

"Where's the nearest car-rental shop?"

"Two blocks down, take a left on Burrow Drive, and then go down to Bushel Berry."

"Thanks."

I walked out the door, walking with heavy steps that were only lightened a little at the thought that Harry might be alive.

When I arrived at the car-rental--Garbin's Car Rental--I noticed a sign on the front door that said 'Opens at 7:30 A.M.' Deciding that it would be stupid to wait there, I continued up the street, looking at all of the interesting shops. This was obviously a small town; there were few cars on the streets, and the shops looked like houses. If I met too many people, word of my presence was sure to spread around the town like wildfire, meaning that many helpful--and unhelpful--people would be looking out for me. It was only when I spotted a small park that I decided to sit and rest a while, before trying Garbin's again.

I approached a swing set in the middle of the park, where I sat on one of the swings and contemplated my fate. If I rented a car, I would need money, of which I had none. If I walked, I would become tired. If I hitchhiked, I would probably end up in London. Maybe hitchhiking was my best chance after all; I could go home and have my parents owl Dumbledore.

A shadow fell across me, and I raised my eyes, curiously wondering what could have caused the sudden darkness.

Standing in front of me, and looking the worse for wear was my angel, Harry.

I stood up, tears of happiness springing into my eyes. "Harry," I sobbed. "Harry, you're here. What happened? Where's Riddle?"

He smiled at me, saying, "He's gone. I killed him." I rushed into his arms, and Harry caught me and lifted me up, all in one fluid motion. Then, he swung me around in a circle before setting me down on the ground again and giving me a forceful kiss.

"So--what happened after I left?" I asked, twirling a strand of his hair around my fingers.

"My angel told me I could win, and because of that I knew I could beat him. The sword was a big help, too." He held it out to me. The blade was stained with what looked like unicorn blood. "And he disappeared. It left a gaping hole in the front lawn, but that's all right."

"But how did you find me here?"

"My angel left me a clue--the clerk at the fountain shop was very helpful. She seemed concerned about who you were and what had happened to you. You looked a mess, apparently."

I blushed, but continued, "But how did you know I was here, when I told her I was going to the car-rental place?"

"Let's just say that if I really want to find you, I know how." He gave me a mysterious grin, and I knew I would get nothing more out of him on the subject.

"And we're both alive."

"Yes, we are." He tossed the sword aside, pulled me against him and gave me a loving kiss. As our lips contacted, and I knew that whatever happened, Harry would be there. I was his angel, and he was mine. Harry Potter, my angel.