Nicole Stevens: Dragons and Deceit

Chapter Ten

Draco looked mildly confused when he stepped in. It was obvious that he hadn't been told the entire story. I waved, making a deliberately false smile. He saw me and seemed to recoil.

"You summoned me? How the hell did you manage to summon me?"

"Hi, honey, nice to see you too," I returned, laughing harshly. "Sit," I said, pointing at the chair across from me. He sat, still looking positively bewildered. "Now, would you like the long and short of the story, from various points of view, or would you rather I just blurt it all out?"

"Huh?" he asked, confused. "What story?"

"Well, it's not the life history of Robespierre," I said. "And since I just know that's what you were thinking, I'll just tell you instead of making you lose several brain cells trying to figure it out. I'm talking about what's been happening in the world at the end of the summer."

"I lived through this summer, I think I know what happened," Draco said, immediately defensive.

"No, you don't know the whole story. There's more to it that what you know or than what you think you know. Because, you see, this is rather like a fairytale. Except, there's a little problem with this fairytale. Any guess what the problem is?" I paused, watching his facial expression turn from disbelief to a state of what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-this-picture. "No? I didn't think you'd know. But it was worth giving you a shot just to see that look on your face."

"What is your problem?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Now you're on the right track. My problem Draco, my darling, is that your father is indeed a bastard and a coward. He didn't kidnap my parents. Oh, no. I know that it's amazing, but it's true. He didn't do it. Now, that false bravado he might have shown you--the whole I-conquer-all attitude--was just that: false."

"Shut up," he whispered, in a childish, frightened voice.

"You know, I'm starting to think you inherited that cowardice gene. But, never mind that. At the end of the summer, Harry stayed with me. We had a picnic, blah blah blah. I stumbled upon a little thing...a ruby necklace. I had no idea what it did. No clue whatsoever. I don't quite remember if I ever told anyone about it, but I do know that it wasn't a huge topic of discussion.

"Well, the Dark Lord wanted it, which means your father wanted it as well. He, being the sadistic bastard that his is, came up with a little plan to get it from me. But here's where that cowardice kicks in. Lucius didn't want to be caught kidnapping two perfectly respectable American immigrants. So, he had someone else do it. Who would possibly do something like that for him? Do you know, Draco?"

He shook his head slowly, obviously trying to find out what I was getting at.

"Surely you know more than that. In fact, I'm sure you do. Because he asked you to do it. More likely than not, he phrased it so that it would look like you were really helping the Dark Lord entirely. He probably told you that it would raise your social standard within the Dark community considerably.

"But, my darling friend, this is where everything goes wrong. You turned him down. Why? Why would you turn down such a deliciously evil offer? Because, for one, you loved me. You knew how hard it would be to face me if you had. So you told him no. But here's the part where I become extremely displeased. You told him another of your fellows might be delighted to help him. Crabbe and Goyle would do well, and so would a girl. A Slytherin, seventh year, sixteen year old girl whom you know very well. Pansy Parkinson.

"That cowardice gene had kicked in now, hasn't it?" I asked innocently. "Wanting to turn and run, are you? I don't particularly blame you for that. But I do blame you for many things. What I blame you for may be questionable, but I'm sure you'll be astounded once you hear the rest of this fucked-up fairytale."

"Shut up," he repeated. "Stop it. Don't do that. I know what happened, all right? I know perfectly well. I lived it. I experienced it. It was hellish enough then, I don't need a verbal reliving of it now. Why don't you just tell me you hate me and get on with it?"

"Oh, darling," I said, smiling. "But that's what you want. You're going to hear me out, and I'm not letting you leave until you have.

"So Lucius sent your three 'suggestions' to kidnap my parents. He also came up with a perfectly diabolical plan. Pansy was sixteen, wasn't she? She had small feet, like mine, didn't she? So he had her step in mud and stomp all around my house, making it look like an intruder had come inside, tracking mud in. However, your two cronies botched the plan. They stepped in the mud, too. They followed Pansy, the leader of the operation, their footsteps making large, muddy prints in her wake. Your father luckily excluded that bit from his initial Ministry report, did he not?

"Well, while Pansy was up there, she made small cuts along the backs of her arms, letting blood drop everywhere as she wrestled with my parents. Crabbe and Goyle screwed up, though. They made fools of themselves. Instead of using wands to subdue my parents, they beat them up. Because, as we well know, those two can't do a thing with a wand, other than use it in bad nasal habits.

"That's where lots of the blood comes from. But Pansy's blood, while it could not be traced back to her individually, was still able to tell that she was a sixteen-year-old female. Another cunning part of Lucius' plan. So, I suppose, that's the story. There is more, of course, but you more or less get the gist of it, don't you?"

He was massaging the bridge of his nose, his eyes scrunched closed in an effort to block me out.

"Gods and goddesses," sighed Draco.

"And the devil between," I replied. "Now, really, I think you need to give me an explanation. As much as it would pain me to have to kill you, don't think that I won't do it. I'm having some serious mood swings, and at the moment, I'm feeling bloodthirsty and slightly homicidal. Sounds like that time of the month, eh?"

He stared at me blankly.

"So?"

"What do you want me to say? 'I'm sorry, babe, it'll never happen again, with the exception of weekdays and Sundays'? It's not like I have a heart, you know."

"To me, it sure doesn't seem like you do."

"Well, get over it. I have a heart, amazingly. It beats. It pumps blood. I'm sorry that I was thinking mainly of self-preservation at the time, but, guess what--I didn't want to die! My father wouldn't have any qualms about killing me. He can make another heir, no problem. Maybe he'd like that. Maybe the next one wouldn't malfunction and fall in love. Whatever the case, I wanted to stay alive. So, if that's not a good enough explanation, then kill me, and spare me from the pain that is loving you, because everyone knows it would be a blessing."

"That is absolutely stupid. Draco, if I didn't like you so much, I'd murder you right now. The truth is, I lied--I probably wouldn't have killed you. But...don't mention that to Lucius. When he gets back, I intend to send a little message to the Dark Lord."

"How?"

"Sorry, but you're going to become the Master of Malfoy Manor a little quicker than planned."

"You're going to kill him?"

"No, they are," I pointed at Death and Destruction, the Dragars. "He already has some nasty green scratches from them, I do believe. But, well...you said it already. He's evil. I don't think he deserves to live."

"Neither do I, but is it really our choice? If he's supposed to die, then won't something happen to him that'll kill him?"

"I don't know. But I'm starting to think that the Higher Powers have abandoned me. I'm taking things into my own hands now. He dies. Today. If I'm going to make everything right again, I can't just sit around doing nothing. So I'm acting. Action produces results. And what I want right now is results, plain and simple."

He nodded resolvedly. "All right. It's your choice. But, just so you know, even if the Higher Powers have abandoned you," he leant forward, taking my hand, "I'm still here. And if you kill him, you'll have all of the Death Eaters after you. The Dark Lord doesn't take things like that well."

"You know, Draco, I think that's where you're mistaken. I think the Dark Lord would admire my bravado. He tends to think people who take action for themselves have a sort of courage. That's why he likes your father so much. At least, that's why I think he likes your father so much. I don't think it's for Lucius' people skills."

"No, I doubt it."

The door opened, and Draco jumped. I glanced towards it. Lucius stood silhouetted in the doorway. He stepped back, waving two people in. I stared at them for a moment. They were almost unrecognisable. I was frozen in my seat. Draco pulled me up by the wrists, and led me over to them. My mother stared blankly at me, her eyes glowing dully from her hollowed eye sockets. She didn't recognise me.

"What did you do to them?" I asked slowly.

"Nothing," Lucius growled.

"Screw that, there's something wrong with them. Both of them. They don't even recognise me." My father looked at me, his eyes hooded by heavy eyelids. They were filthy, their robes covered in grime. Their hair was matted, and neither of them moved very much.

"Father," Draco said pleadingly, "what is wrong with them?"

"Insanity got the best of them. Neither could handle the stress of being locked up, so--"

"Malfoy," I growled, turning angrily on him and shoving my wand in his face. "Be prepared for death, you evil, sadistic, coward. Say hello to pain." He gazed levelly at me. "Crucio."

Lucius fell into a kneeling position, making no sound. His face was contorted in pain.

"Nicole, no!" Draco pulled me away, trying to wrestle the wand from me. "You can't use illegal--"

I elbowed him and pointed my wand at him. "Avada Ke--"

Draco stood in front of his father, looking shell-shocked and frightened. "Nicole, I'm sorry. But...not like this. Some other way, maybe, but never like this. I can't let you. I know how much you want to, but not like this."

Lucius shoved Draco out of the way, and Draco stumbled into the bookshelf, his head smashing painfully against the ancient wood. He sank to his knees, his hands pressed to his head.

"If she wants to do it, let her do it, boy."

"No, he's right. I want you to suffer. Death and Destruction, here's your meal. Bon appetite." The Dragars bounded at him, pouncing and tackling him. I rushed to Draco, and knelt beside him. Blood poured from between his fingers, which were cupped around his nose. He was fighting back tears, as he had learned to do over the years of abuse.

"Draco, what's wrong?"

"My nose," he said. "It's broken." It came out my ose; is boken.

I nodded, "All right. Get up. Let's see if we can't find someone who can do healing--"

"Nicole!" he said suddenly.

"Wha--" Something heavy slammed into my head. My vision blurred, and I lurched forward, clutching at the bookshelves for support. I received another blow to the head, and blood trickled down my neck. Lucius, for he was the only one who could have attacked with such force, wound his fingers in my hair and dragged me backwards by it. I shrieked, feeling as if every strand of hair on my head was burning.

"Endsville, is it not?" Lucius hissed. "I think we can call this the end of Nicole Stevens. Any last words, girl?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Duck."

"Duck?"

"Yes," I said. Draco slammed a heavy crystal into Lucius' head. He stumbled forward, letting go of me. I pointed my wand at him and said, "Yes, Lucius. Death will be here for you soon."

I nodded at Draco, and he led my father out. I took my mother by the arm, and followed him.

---

Dumbledore surveyed my parents sadly. He had been staring at them for the past half hour. Draco looked at me, as if seeing me for the first time. I was forced to content myself with fiddling with the little silver instruments in Dumbledore's office.

"Miss Stevens, Mister Malfoy," he said. "Go to bed, please."

"But what about Harry?"

"Oh, yeah," Draco said, shaken out of his trance-like state. "What about Potter?"

"He is in no immediate danger."

"He's with Voldemort," I said. "That constitutes danger in most everyone's mind."

"Without the Opticilym, he is in no danger. The Dark Lord knows what it will take to defeat him, and the Opticilym is the only thing that will serve his purpose well. Now, go to bed and try to sleep."

Draco consented, and I followed him out, shooting one last look at Dumbledore before leaving. He had promised to keep my parents until he had found a suitable place for them to stay. I could usually trust Dumbledore, but I didn't want to leave them. Draco could tell.

"If you don't watch where you're going," he whispered, "you'll end up smashing into a wall. That'd actually be really funny, now that I think of it. But...no."

"Where are you going?" I asked him suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm going to the Gryffindor dormitories, but you're following me. So where are you going?"

"I'm walking you to the Gryffindor Tower."

"Why?" I asked incredulously. "I know where it is. It's just up here, behind the portrait--" I broke off. "Wait, are you just going so you can find out where out dorms are and what the password is?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm being a good boy, and trying to be nice. Besides, Head Boys are supposed to be 'courteous and gentlemanly.' So I'm being courteous and gentlemanly," he replied, offering me his arm. "Isn't it a welcome change?"

"You ooze sarcasm," I replied, threading my arm through his, like the 1800's version of holding hands. "And it's not like you. I think I prefer the real you. You know, that one who thinks the sky is purple and the sun revolves around himself. That's the Draco I'm used to. That's just who you are."

"No," he said. "It's not purple. The sky, I mean. It's orange."

"Whatever," I replied. "Now, leave me here. I'm not showing you where the dormitories are. Turn around, and leave."

"I know where they are already. It's not a big secret. Don't make me leave. I don't want to."

"But I want you to," I said.

"Fine," Draco smirked. "But don't expect me to always trail after you. It's a complementary service that I only give when my father's done something like this. And if you have your way, there aren't going to be more of these problems. So, no more following after this?"

"No more following," I said. "Goodnight."

Draco nodded and left, walking quickly. I allowed myself a few moments to watch him go. He didn't look back, but I knew he could sense me watching him. It unnerved him, somewhere beneath that cool exterior. Once he was out of sight, I started on my way to the Gryffindor common room.

As I neared the entrance, I saw someone standing in the shadows beside the portrait. He saw me, stepped out of the darkness, and smirked. I stopped, glaring at him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you."

"No following, remember? We said no more following after this. So why are you following me?"

"I didn't. If you remember, I came in front of you. Technically, you're following me. But why split hairs? It doesn't exactly do a lot of good. And, by the way, gentlemen never leave before their beautiful girls are back safely."

"You're considering yourself among gentlemen? Ha. Ha, ha, ha. That's funny. Really it is. But, the problem is, I'm at Hogwarts. I'm safe. So leave."

"You were at Hogwarts the other three or four times you were kidnapped, so I don't see where that makes you immune from danger. I also happen to be looking out for you. If you really don't want me to, I guess I could just leave. But I'm trying to help. Just because you don't like the attention doesn't mean it's not necessary."

"Necessary?" I shook my head. "No, that's not it. You're just trying to get me to let you come in with me. I know you too well."

"You don't know me at all," he hissed. "You've only seen one side of me. I can assure you, there is much more to me than you choose to see. If you doubt that...well, I won't even try to dispute it with you. I'm not in the mood for the kind of earthquake that would cause."

I raised my eyebrows. "Are you saying that after three years I don't know you? That's a good one. I resent that."

He shrugged, taking my hands in his. I began to pull away, but his voice stopped me. "Look, I'm sorry. I mean, I'm not really sorry, but it seems like the right thing to say. I'm tired, you're tired; it's been the longest day of my entire life. I don't want to argue with you when my witty comebacks don't even sound sarcastic. Good night. Get some sleep." Draco kissed my cheek and walked past me.

I turned and grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For arguing with me."

"Why?"

"Because it made me remember that at least that won't change, no matter what else does."

He grinned slightly. "Let's hope it doesn't."