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A Touch of Mystery
Topic Started: Dec 11 2010, 02:56 AM (249 Views)
Jace Archer
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Reaching out with a smile of gratitude, Jace accepted the glass of juice from the bartender. He was underage, so obviously it was just juice. No matter how much he wished otherwise.

He took a sip as he walked away from the crowded bar area. His eyes moved watchfully over the well dressed crowd, his hand slipped into his pocket. And with a swift movement, a small flask opened and a healthy dose of whiskey was added to the juice. He lifted the glass to his lips and drained half of the contents. It was strong, but he’d need a strong drink to endure this night.

Jace was bored. Monumentally bored. And felt as though his own clothing were trying to strangle him. Forget the Cruciatus Curse, wearing a tux was a true method of torture. He reached up and undid the tie then tucked it into his jacket pocket. At least he could breathe.

These affairs were tedious and he was fairly certain that the clocks were all charmed to run a little bit slower on nights like this. The only time he enjoyed balls like this was if he was bringing a bird with him. And even then, it was after the ball that he looked forward to.

It was common knowledge that a lad was more likely to get a leg over after enduring something like this for a girl. Girls seemed to get carried away with the romance of a masquerade ball (or any formal ball for that matter) and by the end of the night, they were tipsy on some fruity alcoholic drink and more than willing for a hot snogging session with their very own prince charming.

He’d arrived with Gare earlier in the evening, and they’d promptly lost each other in the sea of people. So now he was on his own to suffer through this. He had thought about bringing a date and in fact, he’d almost asked Brooke Saunders but bringing her meant having to deal with her and Abby Capulet, and honestly, dealing with one of them on their own was bad enough. The two of them together with their giggling, gossiping and shrill voices was just a recipe for a migraine.

If he was going to end the night with a headache, he was going to do it the old fashioned way. Get blind drunk and then deal with the headache in the morning. Not the other way around. Although, as he watched the frilly and poufy dresses and stuffy tuxes spin around the dance floor like little marionettes, he couldn’t help but realize, there simply wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to make this night worthwhile.

With a glance down at his half empty glass, he decided to have one more drink before he’d take off back to the school.

Jace drained the last of his drink and set the empty glass on a nearby table. He removed his dark gray jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before moving to the bar again. He repeated the same process as before. With his drink doctored, he made his way to the edge of the dance floor. He leaned against a heavy column and sipped at his drink.

His eyes stopped their perusal of the crowd when he spotted a tall slender figure in a floor length black gown that was too risqué to be anyone from Hogwart’s. She spoke with several blokes in traditional wizarding robes. It was almost impossible to tell if any were her date.

The dark material against the pale flesh of her midriff was alluring, and as she moved to speak with one of her companions, the long slit in the gown revealed a glimpse of her creamy thigh. Her gold and black mask hid most of her face but as she lifted a long stemmed glass to her lips, he decided that he may stick around for another drink after all.

Before he could move, a pair of tiny cool hands reached up from behind to cover his eyes.

“Guess who?” A shrill giggle filled his ears and he couldn’t control the shudder that ran through his frame.

“Abigail.” Her name was uttered in an already exhausted sigh. Her reaction was another high pitched giggle as she stepped around to stand in front of him.

She wore a formfitting red dress that hugged her slim figure. Her hair was styled perfectly and looked as though it would withstand a small hurricane. It barely moved as she bounced in front of him. The makeup was expertly applied (possibly with a trowel). She looked like the very picture of how to look 'too put together' for a evening.

He began looking for an escape route. A way to get out of earshot of the pretty brunette, because there wasn’t enough alcohol in all of England to make him stay here and talk to her. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Abby… actually, no… it was that he didn’t like her. Maybe if he could shut her up for five minutes he could tolerate her, but as it was her voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

“I saw you with Gare earlier, that’s how I figured out who you were.” Her toothy grin beamed up at him proudly. “I was just wondering if you’d like to…”

“Sorry, I see my date over there… I’ve got to go, Abby.” Jace blurted out as he tossed back his drink and handed her the empty glass. He bolted toward the slender figure in black. As luck would have it, two of her companions turned to head to the bar as Jace neared the lovely woman. The third bloke wasn’t so eager to leave her side. His hand was gripping her arm just above the shoulder and the lower half of his face, the part not hidden by the mask, was reddening with anger.

“…I’ll not have you talk to me like that…”

Jace stepped up with grin and a nod, he offered the lady his hand. “A dance, my lady?”

He was offering her a way out of this situation. If she said no, he could always resort to getting violent with the prat manhandling her, but this way was a bit more diplomatic (and had less chance of him ending up in detention until he graduated).
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Nicolette Delacroix
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Of the students, Nicolette could easily identify their houses, at least for the girls. The bookish Ravenclaw’s were covered in boring dress robes, the absentminded Hufflepuff’s bounced around in frilly tutu contraptions, the Gryffindor’s in bold colors that made them stick out like a peacock in the arctic, and the Slytherin’s, each trying to outdo the next in rich, elegant dresses. The boys were a good deal more difficult to read. Of course, she had easily applied a Gryffindor label to the boy with a bowtie, and named the one in plaid pants a Hufflepuff.

Between fending off advances from older men, young boys, and everything in between, Nicolette was starting to regret her own dress choice. A plunging neckline and high slit did wonders in providing her with free alcohol, but it was becoming tiresome to find an acidic remark to the worsening pick-up lines.

“Would you grab my arm so I can tell my friends I’ve been touched by an angel?

“That dress has got to go… but you can stay.”

“There must be something wrong with my eyes. I can’t seem to take them off you!”

“That dress looks great on you… as a matter of fact, so would I.”


She was literally going to scream. Honestly, she hadn’t even thought the dress was that bad. Compared to the skin-tight, “isn’t that actually a shirt?” hooker dresses other girls were wearing, Nicolette’s looked quite elegant. A classic, glittering train swept the floor, with a slit cut high up on her thigh to allow her some freedom. A halter top that caught between her neck and was cut at the sides, leaving the creamy skin of the sides of her abdomen bare. Sure, it wasn’t exactly father-proof, and yes, it did have a risqué, tempting aspect to it (it was Nicolette, one could expect no less), but she still looked elegant, proud, and something other than a whore.

“Well now, I believe I have found the finest legs in the room. What time do they open?”

Or not.

“About the same time you hit puberty,” Nicolette replied, eyes wide with false sincerity.

The dark-haired man chuckled and itched his side like a monkey, roguish grin revealing yellowed teeth. “Love, perhaps that Elven wine has muddled your pretty little head. A fully developed man stands before you.” Nicolette half expected him to strike a pose.

Her mouth formed into a glittering style as her eyes dropped down to take in his “fully developed” self. “Fully developed?” she repeated, pointedly looking at his groin area. “Well, I suppose some men have to be small.”

Flushing scarlet, the man made as if to grab her, but was blocked by another masculine presence, this one in brilliant silk emerald dress robes.

“Charming as ever, Nicolette,” the dark-haired boy remarked as he forcefully pushed the other man away and into the arms of his buddies.

“Ahh Julian. My knight in shining armor,” she quipped, sipping her wine (since no man seemed to understand that all she wanted was some damn firewhiskey) with burgundy lips. “Odd, I don’t remember hiring you,” she added, voice layered with annoyance.

“Yes,” he answered curtly, as was his way. “Clearly you do not require my assistance.”

Before she had the chance to reply to his sarcasm, a flash of blonde hair flit across her vision, and Nicolette’s stomach sank. Just what she needed to add to this night, the boy she had especially been avoiding.

“Ward.”

“Reed.”

The two Slytherin’s greeted each other stiffly as a slightly amused Nicolette looked on. Slytherin’s and their jealousies, and not so much over her either. Julian, perhaps the closest friend to Alex, was never very high on Reed’s list. The mounting tension brought over another Slytherin in sapphire robes, who pulled Julian away, leaving Nicolette alone to deal with Kyle.

“Why were you talking to Ward?” Kyle questioned, turning flaming eyes upon her slightly smaller form. Nicolette’s sparked in answer as she drew herself up to face him, made much easier by her black stilettos.

“Jealous?” Her lips curved in a malicious smile. She shouldn’t goad him; she knew better, especially since that fateful initiation night. Something had snapped within the younger Reed, and ever since, he had openly scorned Alex, pursuing everything that he thought was Alex’s. Including her.

It was no secret that she preferred the darker cousin, no secret that their families had entertained notions of a marriage between Alex and Nicolette, one that even the elder Reed himself would support. Nobody knew if it would actually become a reality. Kyle seemed to think so, if his increasing possessiveness over her was any indication.

“He is no friend of mine,” his fair features darkened as he took a threatening step towards her. “You are not to speak to him.” Nicolette held her ground, head high as she peered at him through her gold mask.

“You forget yourself, Reed,” she drawled, smothering her anger behind calm she did not feel.

“Do I?” he snarled. “Ward belongs to my cousin. You belong to me. Thereby, you will not associate with him. Do I make myself clear, Delacroix?”

Something in Nicolette shifted and the next thing she knew her calm façade had shattered on the ground at her feet.

“No,” she hissed venomously, “Let me make myself clear. I belong to no man, least of all a worthless brat playing suck-up to his daddy. You are ten times less the man than either your father or your cousin.”

The instant the words left her lips, Nicolette realized her mistake. Rage mottled Kyle’s features, his blue-eyes cut through her like razor blades. His hand had swiftly moved to grab her upper arm, fingers biting painfully into the smooth flesh, no doubt leaving bruises that would be there upon awakening tomorrow.

“Nicolette Delacroix,” he practically spit, fingernails digging in as well now. Her stomach clenched in panic, even as her face remained void of emotion. “I’ll not have you talk to me like that—”

“A dance, my lady?”

Blue-green eyes turned with slight astonishment to the outstretched arm, slowly following the arm up to its owners twinkling gaze behind a grey mask. For a long moment, time seemed to stop. Risking a glance at Kyle, Nicolette was satisfied to see that he seemed a bit startled at the boy’s audacity as well.

“Sod off,” Kyle recovered first, releasing Nicolette to turn on the newcomer menacingly. Unconsciously, she took a step away, willing to let the two boys take out their aggression on each other. It was a brilliant plan that had but one flaw. If Kyle won, she’d be left to deal with him alone. With wine in her system, stiletto’s ready to turn an ankle, and a dress that would reveal all if she moved in the wrong way, Nicolette felt that the odds were stacked against her.

“I believe the young man was asking me, Reed,” she said coolly, stepping in between the boys, who were sizing each other up, “Unless you know answer to ‘lady’?” She directed a hard glance at the blonde, daring him to make a scene, which would inevitably cause his father more displeasure in his only son.

“A dance would be lovely, thank you,” she turned towards the newcomer, studying him for the first time. Misplaced jacket and tie, sandy hair, strong features covered by a mask, small, half-grin, and shining hazel eyes, stared back at her, causing a fleeting jolt of recognition, that passed as quickly as it had come. No, this calm, bold man would never be the same immature rogue who had been in Hagrid’s Hut that one day.

She placed her smaller, fragile-looking hand confidently into his, allowing him to lead her away from the mounting anger of the boy left behind.

She would deal with him later. For right now, she had to plan her escape from her, admittedly, handsome rescuer.
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Jace Archer
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As the arrogant bloke released the young woman’s arm, Jace let his gaze move from the willowy brunette to crimson faced blowhard at her side. As much as he wanted to dismiss the boy as another pompous ass who’d had a bit too much firewhiskey, there was something in the furious blue glare that warranted a bit of caution. There was something menacing and unnerving in the rage that simmered beneath the surface. This was a lad that he wouldn’t be turning his back on anytime soon.

“Sod off,” He responded to Jace’s simple request with an angry bark.

Jace’s immediate response was to stiffen his back and prepare himself for the inevitable fight. The bloke may be dangerous but it’d be a cold day in hell before he backed down from a fight. His hands clenched into fists at his side but before either lad could move. The beautiful brunette stepped between them and turned her fierce glare onto the other man and spoke in an icy tone.

“I believe the young man was asking me, Reed, unless you know answer to ‘lady’?”

The name was one Jace recognized immediately.. Everyone in the wizarding world knew of Marcus Reed. He was a very dark and very dangerous wizard. Speculations and rumours ran rampant throughout the community about Reed’s plans for the destruction of the Ministry for Magic. Though nothing had ever happened, people were already comparing Reed to the likes of Voldemort and Grindelwald.

The red faced boy before them was far too young to be Marcus, but his son, Kyle was a Slytherin in Hogwarts. Jace had never even spoken to the boy but had heard even more rumours about his volatile temper and violent tendencies.

And this young woman’s tone dismissed him as nothing more than a resilient pest. Jace tried valiantly to smother the smirk that threatened to surface. He was almost successful, only his eyes betrayed the amusement he felt at the girl’s comments.

“A dance would be lovely, thank you,” Her cool tone warmed slightly as she turned her stunning blue green eyes his way. He lifted his hand again and she slid her delicate hand into his grasp. He turned from Reed and let his eyes roam over the face and mask of his dance partner. There was something vaguely familiar about her, yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

He led her toward the middle of the dance floor before turning to face her. His hand slid gently around her waist to hold her in a traditional stance. Though he couldn’t help but pull her a touch too close to be considered proper. Her slender frame held a hairsbreadth from his own. The intoxicating spicy scent of her perfume filled his senses and he flashed a warm smile down at her before he spoke.

“Alright, yeah?” He asked. His tone was low and concern flickered through his hazel eyes as they began to move slowly over the dance floor.

“Are all your suitors so… enthusiastic?” He asked with the hint of amusement mixed with the curiousity that lined his gaze. It wasn’t the real word he’d been thinking of but it would do in the company of a lady. His eyes darted up to where Reed stood glowering at them. Jace flashed him a winning smile and drew the girl in his arms a tiny bit closer. Reed’s eyes flashed menacingly before he turned to storm off toward the bar area.

After a moment’s pause, he was unable to help himself. He had to ask. “Kyle Reed? Really? He’s… he’s just…Kyle. I’m sure he has a bright future as a serial killer but a girl like you could do so much better.”

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Nicolette Delacroix
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Even as her savior led her away, Nicolette could feel the cold blue eyes following her every move. Goosebumps rose on her bare arms as a chill swept over her, despite the warmth of the room. It was exhausting just thinking of the next time they would meet. She would not have the luxury of allowing her temper to flare again.

She glided to the middle of the dance floor, moving in a way that ensured her dress would not reveal something it shouldn’t. She felt some of the tension seep out from her as the man slid a hand around her waist, pulling her close to him. The dance floor was Nicolette’s second home. Ever since she could walk she had been forced into dance lessons. She didn’t particularly care either way about the actual dancing, but for the moment, the comfort of something that was static and ingrained into her was extremely welcomed.

“Alright, yeah?” he asked her, his breath caressing her face as she simply nodded. She realized then just how close he was and smiled knowingly, but didn’t move away. The smile also served to help a flood of uneasiness spread through her at his question and the very clear expression in his eyes. Concern. She didn’t know how to deal with worry. It was a well-known fact that all Slytherin’s looked out for themselves. Selfish, yes, but effective. Nicolette knew all the ways to manipulate, to coerce, to deal with boys who were jerks, or pricks, or self-loving asses.

Distress over her well-being? Well, that flew right over head.

She had to escape… now.

“Are all your suitors so… enthusiastic?” he was questioning her. Her blue-green stare, which had been scanning the room carefully for an excuse that would allow her to leave, reluctantly returned to his face, noting that his eyes were currently fixed on something over her shoulder. Curled wisps of dark hair bounced against her cheek as she swiveled her head to catch Kyle stomping off towards the bar.

“If by enthusiastic you mean horny, pre-pubescent boys,” she started, turning to face him once more and nearly dropping the flow of her sentence as she realized he was even closer now, “then yes.” Before she could add more, the man was off again.

“Kyle Reed? Really?” he mused, almost causing Nicolette to wince, as though he were accusing her of something. While her mask remained perfectly intact, her shoulders tensed. Dancing was not the best place to try to keep your thoughts hidden. Every shift or ripple of muscle could be felt by one’s partner, who, if intuitive, could see straight through protective facades.

“He’s… he’s just… Kyle,” the man continued, either oblivious to her change or just ignoring it. “I’m sure he has a bright future as a serial killer but a girl like you could do so much better.” A slow smile worked its way across Nicolette’s face, turning sheepish to conceal her unease.

Not even Nicolette could explain her relationship with Kyle. She had known him since Kyle was a toddler, digging up worms and dropping them in her hair. Of course, Nicolette had been one of the only of their brood to earn an ounce of respect from the blonde when she picked up the worm and shoved it down his pants (while the adults weren’t looking, naturally). From that moment, Kyle had treated her different than the other Slytherin girls. At first, she had been flattered that he didn’t regard her as just another whore. Unfortunately, now she realized it probably would have been better. Whereas he eventually tired of his other trysts, Nicolette’s self-respect and refusal to submit to his advances had made him obsessed with her. The fact that her parents seemed bent on giving her to Alex had infuriated him into possessiveness. And now, any amount of liking she had had for the small boy set on gaining his father’s approval had been lost. Though not willing to admit it, even she had become fearful of Kyle and his rash actions. Her meetings with him had been reduced to wary battles and defensive shields.

Which led to the man’s first meaning. Why him? Why would she willingly associate herself with such a boy, who anybody could see was heading down a path riddled with agony and desolation? A path that she was forcefully being pulled down as well. But what he didn’t understand was that she had no other choice. She had been trapped since she was a little girl, hands on hips, calmly calculating her next move against her adversary. Wasn’t that a well-known phrase? Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer? Nicolette couldn’t be rid of him.

But she did know how to re-direct the man’s probing questions without giving herself away. Once more, she sent her mother a prayer of thanks for teaching her daughter the powerful art of seduction.

“A girl like me,” she started, eyes dancing secretively, covering up any hidden doubts or worries she might have, “needs a man who can excite her.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a seductive smirk, thoughts of fleeing momentarily escaping her as she got caught up in her game. It was just too natural, too much fun to toy with the other sex.

“It seems that ‘serial killer’ over there is the only boy here who has come close to rousing me.” She leaned her head towards his ear, lowering her voice slightly as she added, “Unless you know somebody else who may be up to the challenge?”
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Jace Archer
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His simple question about her well being was met with a flicker of surprise in the stunning blue green eyes that stared at him from behind the gold and black mask. It was merely a second before she recovered but it was enough for Jace to realize that this girl was surrounded by idiots. All those blokes vying for her attention and not a single one of them could think to inquire about her well being. It made no kind of sense to him.

The entire time he spoke to her, her attention was elsewhere. Her gaze moved steadily around the ball. If he were to hazard a guess, he’d say she was looking for a way out. And as he brought up Reed, he could feel the tension that quickly filled her slender frame. Ah, so he’d hit on a nerve there.

“A girl like me,” she started, a sultry challenge lined her gaze as she looked up at him. Her lips quirked upwards into a sexy smirk, one that seemed oddly familiar. Yet once again, he couldn’t quite put his finger on how he knew her. “needs a man who can excite her.”

“Ah, a girl who likes ‘em dangerous.” Jace’s grin lit his face, “Let me guess, you are one of those adrenaline junkies? Flying motorbikes, skydiving and the like, yeah?” His tone held a note of teasing. He had no clue who this girl was much less what she was like, but history had taught him that a bit of light hearted bantering would rarely go amiss. If nothing else, he could get another glimpse of her dazzling smile.

“It seems that ‘serial killer’ over there is the only boy here who has come close to rousing me.” She leaned her head towards his ear, lowering her voice slightly as she added, “Unless you know somebody else who may be up to the challenge?”

She had leaned in closer to him. Her warm breath fanned across the sensitive skin on the side of his neck as he took her movement in stride. He grinned at her provocative question.

“Ah, love,” He pulled back to stare into the deep green-blue depths of her eyes. “if the likes of Reed are all it takes to excite you, then I’m afraid to say that I may just be too much for you to handle. I’m actually a dragon tamer in my spare time.”

He cast a cheeky wink in her direction as he led her around the dance floor. He let his arm move to the right and the lovely woman spun out in a graceful twirl before spinning effortlessly back into his arms. He let her momentum carry their movements forward and he dipped her low before bringing her back into an upright position.

Another perk of having a gay best friend, he learned how to dance – and dance well- at a young age.

As the music changed tempo, he took a step back but kept his hand on her lower back as his eyes found hers again. He guided her back to the edge of the dance floor and took a quick glance around to see if Reed was hovering. Jace didn’t see him, but that just meant the smarmy little bastard was probably watching them from somewhere they couldn’t see him.

“Drink?” Jace asked, not quite willing to leave her side. He wasn’t sure if it was to protect her from the likes of Reed and his cronies or if it was just because she intrigued him.

He spotted Joseph Stanfield, one of the blokes who’d been stuck as a waiter for this event. Joe was a former Puff who’d graduated only the year before. He and Jace had always gotten on quite well.

Jace held up two fingers and within moments, Joe brought two glasses of firewhiskey to the pair. Jace plucked both from the tray and offered the second to the girl at his side with an easy grin. “I figured a girl with a dangerous side wouldn’t mind a something a bit fiery.”
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Nicolette Delacroix
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“Ah, love,” the man drawled, pulling away unperturbed, “if the likes of Reed are all it takes to excite you, then I’m afraid to say that I may just be too much for you to handle.” The retort coaxed a tiny smile of amusement from Nicolette. Too much for her to handle indeed. That type of boy certainly did not exist.

“I’m actually a dragon tamer in my spare time.” An arched eyebrow was her response to this bold statement and teasing wink. With a sudden movement, the bloke spun her out in a twirl that had the train of her dress flying. The few wisps of brunette hair that were not pinned to the back of her head bounced against her flawless cheeks. Her feet moved of their own accord, following steps that had been hammered into her by her demanding dance instructor.

With exceeding grace, she twisted back into his arms, astonished at his dancing skills. He must be a pureblood. Only men from traditional families learned how to dance so well. At least she wasn’t dancing with some halfwit Hufflepuff, or worse, an arrogant Gryffindor. Perhaps he wasn’t even a student, though his skin was youthful and unblemished where it peeked out from beneath his mask.

As she moved back into his body, he surprised her by not halting her movement, allowing her to fall backwards instead as he dipped her low. It was only a few moments that she was suspended with nothing but his strong grasp supporting her weight mere feet above the ground, but it was enough to cause panic to surge through her. A motion like that required trust in one’s partner, a trust that Nicolette barely had in anyone, let alone a stranger. Irrational anger followed her alarm at the audacity of the man.

She covered her anxiety well; the man didn’t suspect her distress. However, it was with relief that he led her off the floor. Time to plan her escape, though first, she would need to figure out where her obstacles had placed themselves. Immediately, her eyes sought out Reed, quickly spying him lounging against a wall, chatting up a blonde bird in a skimpy gold dress. He was one of those people whom she always seemed able to locate, like a hound dog who had the scent permanently. It was bloody useful, especially since he was quickly becoming dangerous.

“Drink?” the man asked her, drawing her steady, unreadable gaze back to him.

“Yes, thank you,” she responded automatically, wary eyes searching out another potential complication to any escape route. Seeing no immediate threats, and realizing that the man had turned his back towards her for the moment, signaling for drinks, Nicolette made as though to slip away.

And that was when she saw him. It wasn’t the fire-engine red hair, nor the ridiculous canary yellow suit that she first spotted, no, it was the awkward saunter that caught her attention and the bizarre salute he doled out to everyone he passed, as if he was the Minister of Magic himself. Nicolette whirled around again, eyes blazing in furious annoyance, even as the man turned to hand her a drink.

The flamboyant boy acting like he owned the place was her stalker. Well, one of many stalkers, if she were being honest, but this one was particularly like a parasite in her side. She had been avoiding him all night, perhaps even more so than Reed. At least she could shake Reed. Leon, on the other hand, was like a parasite in her side. He was arrogant, dense, unshakeable, and downright infuriating. An all-around winner. If he spotted her, she would never be rid of him, no matter how harsh she was. Hell, she could beat him to within an inch of his life, cut his entire ego to shreds, and he still wouldn’t have understood that she didn’t want to fucking marry him!

And yes, he had already embarrassed her in front of the entire Great Hall with a singing telegram, asking for her hand. While she had wanted to destroy him that day, it was his telegram that had exploded into a billion fiery bits with one lazy flick of her wand.

She wouldn’t be so generous the next time.

“I figured a girl with a dangerous side wouldn’t mind a something a bit fiery,” he was explaining, knowing gleam in his hazel eyes. His teeth flashed, revealed by a lopsided grin. The offered drink (firewhiskey, finally!) was held out to her by a strong, confident hand. Short, sandy hair, stuck up in a few places, as though he had run his hand through it recently. His body was a solid mass, larger than hers, perfect for shielding her from unwanted stares.

What she did next, even Nicolette would question in the next few days. It was probably the closest action she had ever made that wasn’t carefully planned and calculated. It wasn’t completely impulsive either, though.

Extremely selfish? Yes, it was that.

Thinking back on it later, she would realize that it had been the perfect plan. It definitely ensured that Leon didn’t see her. However, by dodging that bullet, she somehow managed to stumble into a bomb. Perhaps it was that she hadn’t realized how attractive she found the man, or perhaps the alcohol had hindered her senses.

Whatever the reason, she quite enjoyed what she did next.

Ignoring the glasses, Nicolette grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, and yanked, hard, pulling him with her as she propelled them towards the closest wall. She could have stopped there, she should have stopped there. For some reason, however, she felt the inexplicable urge to finish the act that she had started. Besides, it would definitely help to keep any prying eyes off the pair. As her bare back hit the barrier, she moved one hand up to the back of his neck, forcefully bringing it down towards her own.

Rising on her tip-toes, they met in the middle, lips crashing together in a shock of electricity. It stunned her for a moment, as she had not expected to feel anything from what was supposed to be a completely meaningless, chaste kiss. Instead, she rocked back onto her heels, lips still locked with his as she fell against the wall again. Unable to resist the urge, she ran a tongue along his lower lip, wanting to taste him, but knowing that she shouldn’t. This was wrong. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this, intense and needy, desirous and sigh-worthy. It wasn’t supposed to cause a shiver to run up her spine, her fingers should not have been running through the hair at the nape of his neck, and it certainly wasn’t supposed to last this long.

She broke away first, mask slamming across her face, rendering her features completely indecipherable.

“You’re right,” she informed him in a low, slightly ragged tone, “I don’t mind something a bit fiery.” Good, let him think she was really turned on by him, she thought, completely ignoring the fact that the husky voice hadn’t been intentional. Her eyes locked with his, sensual smirk crossing her face, “You did say you were a dragon tamer. Must have set my loins all afire and all.”

She sent a quick glance over his shoulder, catching the flash of ginger hair bobbing away. With the sudden flood of relief, Nicolette realized something. She had just effectively trapped herself between a wall and a handsome stranger who was staring at her with a look in his eyes that told her she was not escaping his grasp anytime soon.

For some reason, Nicolette found she welcomed the ensuing challenge.
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Jace Archer
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He’d be lying if he'd said he hadn’t been thinking about kissing her but the quickness of the movements she made as he turned back to offer her a drink still left him a little stunned. She reached up to curl her fingers into the front of his shirt. It took very little effort on the mystery woman’s part to pull Jace toward her. His surprise had rendered him momentarily compliant. Not that he'd have put up much of a fight in this situation anyway.

She moved backwards a few short steps, dragging him along with her. His eyes moved down to lock with hers. The emotion swirling beneath the blue green surface of her eyes was enough to stir a thrill of exhilaration in the pit of Jace’s stomach. There was something wanton and dangerous in way she stared up at him.

Her movement was halted by the wall against her back but his momentum was stopped only as his body was pressed flush against hers. Her fingers slid up to the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine as she tugged his head down and lifted her face up to his. The intoxicating scent of her perfume filled his senses. Undeniably feminine and sensual.

And unquestionably familiar. Whoever this mystery woman was, he’d been this close to her before. As this thought raced through his brain, his eyes narrowed the tiniest bit as he tried to figure out who she was.

The crystal tumblers of firewhiskey were still gripped in his hands and now was not exactly the moment to be searching for a convenient surface to set them down. So he held the glasses firmly, his arms useless at his sides as her lips collided with his. All previous thoughts of determining her identity fled his mind as he savoured the pressure of her full lips against his. The faint taste of elven wine lingered on the plumpness of her lower lip and he suddenly filled with an almost overwhelming appreciation for the beverage that he’d once claimed was ‘a sissy drink’.

Yet it ended far too quickly. She pulled back a wee bit. Her mask was slightly askew, obscuring the expression on her slightly flushed face. There was definite huskiness that coloured her words. The corners of his lips curled up into a small but confident grin but he didn’t back off. His face was only a few short inches from hers. Her breath brushing delicately against his lips.

“You’re right,” she informed him in a low, slightly ragged tone, “I don’t mind something a bit fiery. You did say you were a dragon tamer. Must have set my loins all afire and all.”

The small smile on his face widened as a short laugh escaped him. It was another way this woman differed from all the girls at Hogwarts.

Her gaze darted back over her shoulder for only a heartbeat but he followed her gaze. It was impossible to discern who she was looking for. There were dozens of masked people filling the magically enlarged space. Somehow he had a feeling that it was Reed that she was on the lookout for.

“You are proving to be quite the enigma.” His own quiet voice had deepened somewhat from the brief passionate kiss they’d just shared. “Beautiful. Graceful. Clever. A thrill seeker, obviously." He flashed a cheeky wink at her, "And now with the flammable loins. I’m a lucky bloke.”

Leaning forward the tiniest bit, his face neared hers again. Their lips were just a hairsbreadth apart when he paused. His eyes held hers for a few lingering moments before he was tugged away.

A firm hand gripped his shoulder and whirled him around. He spotted the angry red face of Kyle Reed just before his heavy fist collided with Jace’s jaw. Jace stumbled to the side slightly and the two glasses that he’d been holding had dropped to the stone floor with a shattering sound that was all but swallowed by the sounds of the party around them.

Lifting a hand up to rub against his jaw, Jace’s hazel eyes narrowed in anger. He glanced to make sure that his dance partner was unharmed before glaring back at Reed. Jace took a step towards the offending lad. His hands clenched into fists at his side as he advanced on the Slytherin.

Reed was ready and took another swing at Jace as the two neared each other. Ducking swiftly to the left, Jace responded with a quick uppercut that solidly met with Reed’s chin. Before Jace could revel in the feeling of hitting the overbearing prat, his arms were suddenly restrained. Struggling against the firm hold on him, Jace could tell that things were going to take a definite turn for the worse. He was outnumbered and facing the son of the new dark lord.
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Nicolette Delacroix
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“You are proving to be quite the enigma,” the mysterious man’s silky voice cut through her plans for escape. The hint of a smile touched her lips as her eyes sparkled secretively. Unknowingly, the man had probably just given Nicolette the best compliment she had ever received. Indeed, she prided herself on her cryptic nature. Sometimes she wondered if her true self had ever even been revealed to her.

“Beautiful. Graceful. Clever,” he continued, spouting off praise that would have had a weaker female blushing. She, of course, was not one such woman. “A thrill seeker, obviously,” a wink followed that particular acclaim, “and now with the flammable loins. I’m a lucky bloke.”

She had no answer to that; couldn’t have responded even if she had. Already he had pressed himself against her again, head angling towards hers in a way that left her with no doubts that she would be forced to kiss her way out of the situation. His breath caressed her face and she steeled herself for the moment, hands flat against the wall at her back, as if channeling its strength so as not to succumb to passion.

But it never came.

Her lidded eyes opened wide as the man was whirled around and punched soundly in the face. The crack of flesh upon flesh was drowned out by the intoxicated patrons, leaving Nicolette as the only witness. She had yet to move, had, in fact, frozen quite admirably in the exact position she had been left.

She had been distracted by her red-haired stalker or she would have realized that Reed had dismissed the blonde and had sought her out. A mistake that had actually provided her with her freedom. It would be simple to slip away as the two boys faced off. Her grace could easily be converted to stealth. If anything, she would be able to watch in amusement from the other side of the room when they finally realized that the prize they were fighting for had scampered off.

Yet, there she stood, as motionless as when Reed had laid the man to the floor with his sound punch. She watched, expressionless, as he jumped to his feet, deftly ducking a powerful swing, and slamming his fist into Reed’s chin.

It disturbed her that she remained, forcing a dark smile to her face, as if she was enjoying the show. Neither boy meant anything to her. Nor did she have a vested interest in whoever won. Hell, they could both knock themselves unconscious in their display of male bravado for all she cared. Or so she thought. The undeniable and disconcerting spike of righteous anger when the man was restrained by one of Reed’s ugly cronies was alarming. Her stomach actually seemed to drop as Reed struck the man a blow to his stomach, causing him to double over, winded. The concern she felt for a stranger had her recoiling in disgust. Since when had others well-being mattered to her?

What could she do, anyway? There was no way she could help, and not because she was a girl or not physically able. To intervene would be to have some of Reed’s fury directed at her; to come to the man’s defense would be her death. Besides, she was a Slytherin, and everybody knew if you wore the green and silver, you were notorious for looking out for yourself and your name and no one else. She wasn’t supposed to have a conscious. The Gryffindor’s were supposed to be the ones who had the hero complexes.

No, she wouldn’t attempt to put an end to the fight, but the roiling pit in her stomach demanded that she at least make the odds even.

“Bravo,” she drawled, lips twisting into a cruel smirk as she casually leant against the wall, arms crossed beneath her bosom. The words, quiet as they were, still managed to freeze Reed’s fist mid-strike and caused both men to swivel their heads towards the forgotten girl, each with matching expression of rage and puzzlement. Her eyes glittered beneath her mask in contempt. “No truly, your skills astound me,” she continued with a sneer. “Not even I could hit a restrained foe,” she mocked him, her sarcasm revealing her scorn.

Reed’s blazing eyes held hers, causing panic to rise like bile in her throat. The electric blue irises contrasted sharply with the red tinge surrounding it, belying Reed’s state of drunkenness. While this would have impeded other men, Nicolette knew from experience that Reed’s malice deepened when he was drunk, and in it, he became more calculating and lethal than when he was sober. She kept herself outwardly calm, using fear to strengthen her show of derision.

“What do you think you’re doing, Delacroix?” he asked her slowly, the words slipping off his tongue like poison. It was worse than if had yelled them. For a moment, she thought it didn’t even sound like him, for he should have blown up at her. Terror squeezed her heart. Enough to make her momentarily forget that Reed had just exposed her identity.

“Doing?” she blinked, feigning ignorance, “I am not doing anything, Reed. Merely suggesting how superior you’re skill is against a suppressed man.” Leaving the man in the tight grasp of Crony Number Three, Reed stalked towards her, placing both hands on the wall to either side of her head, effectively caging her in with his formidable presence.

“Your insolence grows tiresome, my lovely Nicolette,” he mused in a low, vicious tone. With a sudden fluid movement, Kyle ripped her mask off her face, taking some hair with it as the string tangled in her dark locks. Tears sprang immediately to her eyes at the sharp pain, but she forced them away quickly, lest Kyle see her weakness. The mask and a few strands of her hair fluttered to the ground, discarded without a second glance. It reminded her of her own precarious situation.

A cold finger trailed down the side of her face, causing a shiver of revulsion to run up her spine. His fingers hooked under her chin in a brutal grasp, forcing her to look nowhere but at Kyle’s sickening face.

“How I would hate for such a pretty face to go to waste,” he told her in a hard, unyielding voice. His eyes glittered with dark intent, a sinister smile spread across his face. It was the most impressive threat he had ever uttered. She hoped his father was proud now that he had created an unpredictable, explosive monster.

“Then don’t waste it,” she responded, licking her lips and hoping the ploy worked. She hated that she had to resort to this, but there was no other help to be had. Alex could have aided her, but then, he was probably off somewhere with his Gryffindor wench. The fool.

Her manicured hand moved to cup his cheek in her hand, hoping the soft touch would ignite something less petrifying than Reed’s wrath. She adopted a somber look, brow furrowing almost mournfully.

“It’s just,” she bit her lip innocently, “I thought you were fighting for my honor.” It was loathsome how close she sounded to a petulant child. “I don’t want others to attribute your glory to the fact that he helped.” Her gaze fell pointedly at Reed’s crony. For a few painfully slow seconds, Reed regarded her in cold fury. He released her chin suddenly, turning from her towards the pair. It was all Nicolette could do to stop herself from rubbing her abused skin.

“Release him,” Reed commanded as he drew even with the man again. “The lady requests a more exciting bout.”

That was it. Her work was done. It was up to somebody else to interfere now.

And, as if in answer to prayers not uttered, Julian seemed to magically appear. His shadowed gaze quickly assessed the situation, moving quickly from Reed to the man to Nicolette, where it lingered for a moment, and then back to Reed once more.

“What’s this?” he questioned in his no-nonsense way.
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Jace Archer
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As Reed’s fist collided with his stomach, Jace bent over. His breath escaping from him in violent rush. He’d have gone to his knees if it weren’t for the unyielding hands that gripped at his right wrist. It had been twisted up behind his back in a vicious angle. Despite the steady pulse of pain radiating from his shoulder and his abdomen, Jace’s eyes were moving over the area. Taking in everything, searching for a way to gain the upper hand from this wanker and his minions. The odds were not in his favour. He was outnumbered and restrained. All signs were pointing towards him getting his arse kicked.

Perhaps that’s why the quiet silky voice startled him so much.

“Bravo,” Her relaxed posture was in direct contrast to the disdainful glint that lingered in her eyes. Her words were enough to halt Reed in his movements as all the men involved steered their attention towards her. “No truly, your skills astound me,” she continued with a sneer. “Not even I could hit a restrained foe,”

Reed turned without hesitation toward the beautiful girl. Of course he did. Jace was being held from behind by one of his ape-like followers, so he proved to be no threat at the moment. Yet when Reed turned, Jace involuntarily tensed. Waiting for the worst. Her quietly spoken words were more than enough to draw the wrath of the intoxicated Reed. The girl had a defiant spirit that Jace could truly appreciate and admire, though in this instance, it could spell disaster for both of them.

“What do you think you’re doing, Delacroix?” Reed’s even tone was worrisome but it was the name that Jace took note of. Delacroix. He knew that name yet before he could dwell on that thought, Reed moved toward her in a slow, predatory step.

It was then that Jace began to struggle in earnest. He couldn’t let her be hurt over this stupid fight. Pulling his weight abruptly from one side to the other, Jace felt the man’s grip on his loosen slightly. He jerked forward to pull free but the grasp on his arm tightened as the man wrapped a thick arm around Jace’s neck, nearly cutting off his supply of oxygen.

“Doing?” she blinked, feigning ignorance, “I am not doing anything, Reed. Merely suggesting how superior you’re skill is against a suppressed man.”

Her body remained unmoving as Reed rest his hands on either side of her head, trapping her in place against the stone wall. She appeared completely at ease in the situation, maintaining a cool demeanor that Jace knew he’d never have been able to pull off.

“Your insolence grows tiresome, my lovely Nicolette,” Reed’s voice was barely audible above the music that still played in the background. Yet the ambient noises did little to hide the cruel tone as he reached up to yank the mask of the brunette’s face.

As her face was revealed, Jace was left slightly dumbstruck. The girl from Hagrid’s Hut. The girl he’d spent far too much time thinking about since that day.
Nicolette Delacroix. The stunningly beautiful pureblood princess. Her name was invariably tied to the younger Reed’s. According to the rumours that were constantly circulating the school, she was being groomed to be Reed’s bride once they graduated.

“How I would hate for such a pretty face to go to waste,” Reed’s back was to Jace but the vicious intent in his words were clear.

“Then don’t waste it,” She responded, “It’s just I thought you were fighting for my honor. I don’t want others to attribute your glory to the fact that he helped.”

Jace wanted to believe this was some ploy to earn him a fair fight, yet the sulkiness in her tone and the way she moved to touch Reed’s face was too real. Too believable.

“Release him,” Reed commanded as he turned to face Jace with a fierce gleam in his eyes. “The lady requests a more exciting bout.”

Reed’s companion let Jace go with a sharp push. Jace stumble a step but didn’t fall. He rolled his aching shoulder briefly to loosen it up as he drew in a few deep breaths of air. He wanted to send a look Nicolette’s way, just to make sure she was alright. Maybe just to see what lay in her gaze. He knew without a doubt that she was a talented actress, he just had no idea whether he or Reed were the one she was trying to play for a fool. Yet despite this, he knew Reed was deadly and he was smart enough to keep his eyes on the Slytherin’s sneering face.

He had no doubt how this was going to turn out. If Jace managed to get the upper hand on Reed, then his cronies would step in and turn things Reed’s way once again. There was no way he could win this. He knew that as a fact, yet the idea of walking away from this fight never once entered Jace’s mind. It wasn’t an option.

“What’s this?” A new voice caught the attention of everyone. Jace chanced a glance at the new man joining the tense scene. Another Slytherin. He was trapped in a veritable snake pit, but he wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Your friend here was about to learn a lesson in manners. Obviously, Daddy Dark Lord never taught him. I mean, how can you blame him? There is only so much time in the day. Between the classes in how to be an insufferable twat and all that private tutoring to help young Kyle here become the budding psychopath that we all know and loathe, there just wasn’t enough time.” Jace’s amiable tone was marred by the hard edge that he was unable to hide. His anger showing in the hazel of his eyes. His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists at his sides.

The newcomer stepped in front of Jace and spoke in a low tone that only he could hear. “Leave now. You cannot win this.” His voice held a detachment, as though he could care less if Jace got his ass kicked. “And even if you do get the upper hand on Reed, Nicolette will be the one to pay for your victory.”

Jace stopped moving for a moment. His eyes locked with the cool gaze of the man before him.

“Just go.”

It was several long moments before Jace could respond. His desire to fight Reed was powerful, almost all consuming at this moment. Yet he couldn’t let Nicolette pay for his arrogance. He cast a furtive glance at the stunning brunette before turning his attention back to the man before him. He nodded once and then using every ounce of willpower he possessed, he turned and began to walk away.

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