Nicole Stevens: Dragons and Deceit

Chapter Four

I tiptoed quietly down the dark corridor. It was not far past midnight, but I knew that no one would be awake in the common room so I continued to the bare patch of stone wall where the entrance was.

"Tempestus Goddard," I whispered. The wall slid slowly out of the way and I headed into the Slytherin common room.

No one.

Good. It was best if no one saw me or knew where I was going.

I walked to the door that was his and opened it. Unlocked--something he would not have done if he had thought I wouldn't come. So he knew how desperate I was for some comfort and company. It would make me fragile and open, but it would also allow him to trust my actions more.

I opened the door softly and stepped inside, closing it behind me.

His room was entirely dark except for the slanting light of the moon flooding in through the high windows. He lay, fully dressed, on the bedspread, his eyes open and his hands on his stomach. He didn't move as I stepped inside and cast my cloak onto the chair by the fireplace.

"Draco."

"Nicole."

"Tell me what I'm supposed to do."

He sat up, running a hand through his velvety-soft hair. "I'm supposed to know?"

"Yes," I answered softly, "Yes, Draco, you're supposed to know what I'm supposed to do. It's your bastard father that's done this. You know him better than I do. Now tell me how I'm supposed to get my parents back unharmed!"

"Unharmed? Try again, dear. They'll be tortured, even if you comply with every guideline set. If you read it carefully, you might realise that he says 'alive', not 'unharmed.' So, you're up the river without a paddle as far as that goes. To have them returned alive, comply with the rules and don't screw around with him. To have them killed, do whatever you please and give him faulty promises. Other than that, I have absolutely no idea as to how you are supposed to go about getting them free."

I stood for a few moments in silence, thinking and taking everything in. I refused to look at Draco, though I knew that he was looking intently at me. My eyes were watering slightly as I held back all of my emotions. This was not happening. It couldn't be. Not MY parents. Surely it was all a joke. A cruel, cruel joke devised by Draco to get me into his arms. Yes, that must be it. What else?

"You're a liar," I hissed venomously at him. "You're lying. That letter--you wrote it. You wrote it so I would come crying to you," my voice rose with passion as I became more frustrated. "You're just jealous that I chose Harry instead of you... again. But--"

Draco jumped up from the bed and advanced threateningly towards me.

"Yeah, I'm jealous of Potter," he spat, his eyes glittering with the moonlight and his fierce anger. "Yeah, I know that you have kissed him and enjoyed it and I'm jealous. So screw me. Why wouldn't I be? My ex-girlfriend with my archenemy--yeah, I'm a little upset! Are you saying that I should just let it go? Well, maybe it's that easy for you to just slip away with Potter and get your mind off me, but for me, I don't have anyone else!" His voice was heated and loud. The people in the next rooms were probably woken by it.

"I don't have someone who will love me, all right?! All I have is you--you're the only one I've ever really considered spending my life with and now you tell me 'Oh, sorry, didn't I tell you? Potter, your arch-enemy, is better in bed, so I think I'll just go sleep with him now and forget about you.' How do you think that makes ME feel?!" I opened my mouth to answer, but he stopped me. "Don't tell me you understand, because you don't! You just don't care about leaving me, because you think that Potter is going to be all you need. Well guess what--I could be that. I could be all you needed. I have money, I have as many resources as you could ever possibly need and guess what else? I love you! I love you with all of my heart and if that sounds cliché it's only because it's what I feel and I've never been really good with words!" He took one step towards me, bringing himself less that a pace away, "And if you think Potter has something I don't, then I can assure you that you haven't gotten to know him yet."

"You think I don't know him?" I asked in a whisper.

"Yeah. You don't know him at all. He won't let you, just like he won't let anyone else. Not even his best friends know what he's really like. What makes you think you do?"

"Well, I, I--"

"You think he loves you? He's known Weasley and Granger for almost seven years and they still don't know him! You've known him for two years. You do the math, darling."

I stopped breathing for a second. Draco continued looking me directly in the eye, searching.

Then I lunged.

I pounced on him, my fingers fastening around his neck as my weight knocked him backwards. He stumbled back, coming closer to the bed. His hands were against my arms, pushing me away. As he saw that I was not about to let go, he slid his hands down to my waist and threw me onto the bed, simultaneously detaching me from his neck. I landed on my back, dazed that he had managed to get me off.

Draco came over to the side of the bed, before saying in a quiet voice, "I know why you did that." My face contorted with anger as I sat up, but he continued, "You've just now realised it's true."

Then he turned around and strode over to the fireplace, lighting it with his wand. He sat in one of the chairs, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

I stood from the bed. My waist was sore from the force with which he had thrown me. Stepping slowly, I made my way over to his chair, and then sat in the chair beside it. I leaned back, staring deliberately into the fire. It burned my eyes to look at it, but I wouldn't take my eyes from it.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said quietly.

"I know you didn't... but I meant to hurt you. I'm sorry I...I just didn't want to hear that. It made me think about everything in the past two years. It made me question everything."

He nodded, ruffling his hair with his hands.

"That was the purpose of it; now do you realize that I was telling the truth?"

I looked at the floor.

"Yes... and I knew it, too. I knew that I didn't know him, that he wouldn't let me. I thought that maybe he would loosen up or something. I still knew, though. I just didn't want to admit it."

"I know you didn't want to admit it. Just like I wasn't so sure I wanted to tell you that I loved you--but I did it."

We sat in silence for several minutes, before I asked the question that had been hovering in the air,

"So what do I do now?"

"I honestly don't know."

"Draco...what am I going to tell Harry? How am I going to get my parents back?"

"I don't know, Nicole."

"But I can't do this on my own. I need help. I need someone to tell me how to win."

"No one can do that, no one but yourself," he answered, glancing sideways to look at me, "But you've never had to work on something by yourself, have you?"

I shook my head. Draco grinned wearily, "You're going to have to try, you know. You can't go through life not knowing how to cope with problems. Everyone has to learn how to deal with things on their own, you're no different. Your problems may be a bit more complicated than most, but you're also one of the most extraordinary people I've ever met. I think you'll be fine. We are put on this earth with the strength to overcome everything that will hinder us."

"Won't you help me, Draco?"

He looked at me, his eyes warm.

"Yes, but I can't tell you how to fix everything. I can't show you how to win and I can't tell you all the answers. You have to find them on your own."

I nodded, and Draco reached over and took my hand. "You are capable of making it by yourself. I've known it since the day we met. So, tell me, Nicole. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly, "But I have the feeling I'll figure it out."

We both grinned and I couldn't help but wonder where this left my relationship with him--and with Harry.

--------Dream-------

"I suppose that makes sense," Lucius said, gazing lazily at his son's face. His eyes lingered on the eyes of his son, seeing their pale, transparent colour. Did this boy think that he could not see straight through him? No, Draco knew he could hide nothing from his father. Nothing.

Lucius roughly grabbed Draco's collar and threw him back onto the wall. Then he began hastily unbuttoning the boy's shirt. His son gaped at him, but quickly shut his mouth. Talking would only make things worse for Draco. Lucius pulled the shirt off Draco and tossed it onto the floor.

"Stand in the center of the room," he hissed.

Draco did so and stood obediently in the middle of the room, shivering. Lucius circled Draco, stopping behind the boy. Then he raised his arm and brought the whip down hard on Draco's flesh. Draco let out a cry and fell to his knees. There was a sharp crack as his knees hit the stone floor.

Lucius took no time in striking the boy again. This time, it drew a thin line of blood across the pale skin. There was no cry of pain this time, only a whimper.

Then he cracked the whip and the sharp snap reverberated around the room. Draco jumped, and Lucius took it as a chance to slice another diagonal slash across Draco's back, making a large, bloody X.

But he wasn't finished. Oh no. He had much more to do.

-------------------

I woke in the morning, my back stiff from not moving all night. I was in a soft feather bed. Opening my eyes, I looked around the room. Sunlight streamed in through the high windows in Draco's bedroom. Come to think of it, where was Draco?

I looked all around the room before standing and inspecting the chairs by the fireplace. There was no note, nothing. Next, I checked in the bureau. There was a small note saying, "I thought you might want to be excused from classes. I gave a note to the Head Girl to give to Dumbledore that will get you out of classes for the day. You can go back to your common room, or you may stay here, but please, don't go outside. There are certain dangers of being outside in the mornings. Just trust me.

--Draco"

I stood for a minute with the letter in my hand, pondering what he meant. Dangers? I had not been planning to go outside anyways. There was no point in going out, but I got the day off to do whatever I pleased! Planning was what I was intending to do. I needed a plan. A foolproof plan.

A plan, I thought. I couldn't fail. Failure was not an option. Not when so much was at stake.

I headed to the door, planning to go to the library to do some research. Just as I reached out to turn the handle, the door opened inward. It swung forward and banged my head.

"Ow!" I yelped, jumping back.

Draco pushed the door open and rushed forward, pulling my hand away from my sore forehead. "I'm so sorry!"

"Ow..." I moaned.

"Sit down," he pushed me into the nearest chair and began inspecting the bruise that was blooming on my forehead. "Good. Just bruised. I'm really sorry."

"I know." He touched my forehead gingerly. "That hurts!"

Draco stopped, and sat down on the ottoman in front of me. "I got you excused from classes."

"I know."

"I think you should rest up. You're going to have some late nights trying to figure out what to do. Also, knowing how my father works, he's thought of just about every trick you might pull. So I think that you'll have to be extra cunning if you want to win this one."

"So...I'll have to do something they won't expect... like using their own tricks against them. What did they use last time? They made me think that Riddle was Harry by using a potion. What was it called? Poly--poly something."

"I think I remember Father mentioning something of the sort."

"Polyjuice! The Polyjuice Potion. That was it. It made Riddle into Harry for about an hour, I think. If I could use that on someone who was willing to help, then maybe I could fool them--but who would be willing to help?"

"I would, but I can't. I have to be present at the ceremony. Can't you think of anyone else who can be trusted with something like this?"

I looked up at him from under my eyelashes, gazing deeply into his eyes.

"You really think I have those kinds of potion brewing skills--even if I can't find someone to use the potion on?"

He stared back at me, his chin resting in his palm.

"No," he replied honestly, "But I think you know someone who does."

"Hermione?"

He nodded, a small smile appearing on his lips.

"I think you might have a small trouble convincing her to brew the Potion, but I definitely think that you could get her to do it for you."

"Now for someone loyal, someone dedicated to keeping Harry safe. Well that would be...Ron."

"Very good. I knew you could do this on your own."

"Now tell me again why can't you help me fight them?"

"If I help you, my father will find out. He will--he promised me that when he gave me the letter. However, I can...give you hints along the way."

"So I ask Hermione to brew the potion and then I ask Ron if he would mind transforming into his best friend for a while. Oh great. What a lovely meeting that will be. 'Hey, Hermione, would you mind brewing a potion that is probably illegal, just so that Harry won't have to confront Voldie?' and then with Ron, 'Nice to see you, Ron. Spectacular weather we're having today isn't it? I hope you will take this potion to turn you into Harry--because I don't want him to come face-to-face with Voldemort again. You know how it is...'"

"Your sarcasm is less than amusing, and right now, I don't see that you have any other options."

"You know Draco, you're right. I'm never going to get myself out of this mess if I won't be serious about it."

He raised an eyebrow,

"You're agreeing? With me?"

I shrugged mildly.

"All right then."

---------

By ten o'clock, I was sitting in the library with Draco, browsing through the shelves and picking up books that were supposed to help me (but secretly, I thought he was finding romance novels to read before he went to sleep). Draco brought me a book and set it down.

"What are all those?" I asked, indicating the other books in his arms.

"Books I want to read."

"Ah," I said, reading some of the titles. 'Nightlife in the City,' 'Passion: a Love Story,' 'Sex, Pain, and Angst: The Life of a Teen.' Sounded like Draco's kind of books to me... or maybe he just enjoyed the pictures. Yeah. Right. "Do you really need to be reading those?"

"Of course. They are modern works of art. Masterpieces."

"So you've read them?"

"Absolutely."

I gave him a look that said, 'I don't think I want to know what they're about.'

"My father made me read them when I was twelve."

"Why?"

"Because he didn't want to teach me about sex, and Snape's only just gotten around to telling us."

I let out a snort of laughter.

"Snape? Talking about sex?"

Draco nodded, grinning.

"You should have seen his face. He looked like someone had just told him he would look sexy in jeans with a whip."

Pondering this for a moment, I shuddered, "Repulsive."

"Yes, I know... oh and the way he said it. 'When a man loves a woman, they...do things.'"

We both laughed--quietly, because Madam Pince would have killed us if we were loud and then I set back to work. If freeing my parents seemed to be far from my mind, it was not. I had masked my worries all day, hoping desperately that I didn't screw something up and also hoping against hope that I would not leak something to one of the Gryffindors.

But Draco knew about it--did that count against me? No, I hoped it didn't. After all, I hadn't told him about what had happened, he had known already. So really I was following the rules quite nicely.

My mind refused to stay focused on work. I had a small attention span--if I tried to work for more than half an hour, I would most likely end up bouncing off the walls. Something that I had forgotten to inform Draco of. Luckily, Draco insisted that I eat something, as I had missed breakfast.

"What do you want?"

"Strawberries with whipped cream."

"Are you kidding?"

"Yeah, but I'd like some for desert. No, really, I don't know what I want. Just...pick something, or something."

"And if I get something you don't like?"

"Then I'll make you go back and try again."

He shrugged, rolling his eyes. "Whatever."

I couldn't bring myself to return to work after he had gone. So instead I picked up 'Nightlife in the City' and flipped through it, stopping on page 286--for no more reason than the fact that I liked that number.

'Kara sighed, shaking her head. Audren was too proud, too vain. He acted like he had his choice of any of the women in Britain, but he'd never know that she was the best he would ever have. No, he would never realize how lucky he was.

'Of course, Audren was handsome and charming, but he could be stubborn and Audren was forceful. Kara knew this and she would not have told anyone differently. Nonetheless, Kara always hoped that one day, Audren would stop trying to force her to do things, and learn that sometimes love is about partnership. However, it had not happened yet and was not likely to happen any time soon... yet she could always hope.

'Suddenly Kara was shaken out of her reverie, as the front door of the flat opened with a bang. She jumped up from the bed, and ran from the bedroom to see what had caused the noise. Audren was setting down his things, his raven black hair curling in gentle waves and a few stray strands falling across his eyes. Kara stood for a moment, waiting for him to say hello.

'He did not. Instead of greeting her with a warm hug and a kiss on the forehead as usual, Audren collapsed tiredly onto the couch. He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing deeply.

'"Audren," Kara said softly. He looked up at her, his black eyes staring intently at her crystal blue ones, but he still said nothing. "Audren, is something wrong? You don't seem...yourself."'

'"I'm fine, Kara," he replied softly. "I'm just tired."'

'She took this as a dismissal and headed back to the bedroom. He wasn't usually this...quiet. Something must have happened at work to cause him to act so differently. Kara knew that it was likely he would soon fall asleep and wake up feeling better than he did now.'

At this point in the story I had to admit that Lucius had some taste. The book seemed to be well written... at least Lucius had chosen something that wasn't just slopped together.

Draco came back, carrying a small parcel. He handed it to me and then his eyes strayed to the book.

"You like it?"

"It's not bad."

"I know. That would be why I'm reading it again."

I began opening the packet. Inside the brown wrapping was a little jar of white cream, a bag of fresh strawberries, and a sandwich.

"You actually got me strawberries and whipped cream," I stated blandly.

"No," he plucked them from my hands. "I got them for me."

Then he gave me a smile and handed me a strawberry and the jar of cream.

After that, we went back to work.