Chapter 1
Biting her lip in concentration, Trixie O'Malley pressed a little harder. With a childish grin, she climbed down off the desk and ran to her room. Sister Catherine would be angry to find half the things on her desk glued to the ceiling, but she wouldn't be surprised. It wouldn't be the first time. It served the old hag right, anyways, for giving her lines to write. Looking at her, no one would take her to be a troublemaker. She was just too sweet-looking, with large blue eyes set in a heart-shaped face and framed with honey-gold curls, now pulled into twin pigtails. An angelically sweet visage behind which was a cunning intelligence and a deep love of mischief.
Glancing at the small purple clock next to her bed, she decided she had about twelve minutes to get to the bus. If she missed it, she'd miss the week's trip into London. She needed to stock up on supplies, so that wasn't an option. She wore a demure ankle-length skirt and a filmy white blouse that was tucked in. She went down to the bus with her head bowed just enough to make the nuns think she'd learned her lesson and was properly contrite. Suckers, she thought as she boarded the bus. She sat in the back so as to be the last off. The other girls avoided her because all had suffered some indignity or another at her hands.
Ah, London. City of shadows, history, and, most importantly, people. The small group was dropped smack in the middle of it and told to be back on the bus in three hours' time. The usual.
It wasn't difficult to lose the other girls since they stuck together like a school of very vocal fish. Making sure no one she knew was in sight, Trixie stripped off the skirt and shirt, revealing a pair of faded capris and a silver tanktop. As she was stuffing the offending clothing into a large canvas tote bag, she noticed a young man who was looking downright uncomfortable. Poor thing. His platinum blond hair looked almost silver in the bright sunlight as she sauntered over to him. He noticed her and turned away self-consciously. She was only a few feet away and her eye caught something on his arm and she grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer.
"Kick-ass tattoo!" she said, admiring the design. It seemed to be a skull with a snake wound around and through it. "Very nice. Good workmanship."
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, pulling away from her and thrusting his arms though the sleeves of a denim jacket.
"Whatever for? If you're gonna get a tattoo, you might as well show it off. My name's Trixie, by the way."
"Draco Malfoy. Pleased to meet you."
"Likewise." They shook hands and Draco looked even more uncomfortable. "What's up?"
"Tell me…what angers your father most of all? I'm kind of looking for a birthday gift…"
A slow grin spread across Trixie's face. "That's easy enough. My dad sees me and he threatens to pop a blood vessel. Works every time. 'Course, your dad might actually like you…it's really a rather individual sort of question."
Draco looked her up and down appraisingly. "Very smart. So what're you here for?"
"In London? To buy some fake mice and snakes to freak out the nuns. And some stink bombs and bottle rockets. Wanna come with?"
"Sure." She noticed that his eyes were a few shades lighter than her own, more grey than blue. "But why don't you use real mice and snakes?"
Trixie snorted. "I'd pity the mice. They'd go deaf from all the screaming. And Bob would be devastated if I got a snake. I do use real frogs, though. I catch them in the pond that's just behind the monastery."
"I've only got two questions; who is Bob and you have mentioned nuns and monasteries and I want to know why."
"Because my dad thought that the best way to turn a bad girl good was to put her in a super-Catholic boarding school run entirely by nuns and a money-hungry attorney. So I've devoted my time to making their lives a living hell. And Bob is my twelve-foot boa constrictor."
"Ah. So where are we going?"
"Right here," Trixie answered, stepping into a small shop titled "'Lil Hellraiser's Supply Closet."
The space was very cramped and it took Draco several tries to fit his lanky frame in the door, but Trixie moved though it like a pro, running her fingers lightly over this and that, finally selecting several items and taking them to the counter. Draco was content to stay by the door and simply watch her. The man behind the counter rang up her purchases and she grinned up at him. "I'd like rings, pendants, and earrings, please. Two sets of green, four of purple, and one of orange. Oh, and if you have any of those specialty pencil-shaped stink bombs, that would be nice too."
"Coming right up." He came back holding several plastic baggies and named the price. She paid and, stuffing everything in her tote bag, thanked the man and walked out of the store, hauling Draco behind her.
After a while they decided they were hungry and Draco bought them burgers and Trixie sprang for ice cream. About halfway though her sundae, Draco put down his spoon. She ignored the gesture to pause.
"You know, my father would never approve of me bringing your kind into the house."
"I fit into a kind? I didn't know that. Tell me, should I feel flattered?" Her own spoon fell neatly into the bowl.
"Well, yes. You should. See, I think you would be the perfect gift for my father's birthday."
"That so?"
"Yeah. So how'd you like to come to dinner at my house tomorrow night?"
Trixie raised a spoonful of ice cream in a mock toast. "It'd be my pleasure."
"Oh, no. the pleasure will be all mine."
They walked out of the ice cream parlor and Trixie pulled on her good-girl clothes again. They felt funny after the hours of freedom. Draco snagged her hand and she let him hold it. Why not. They were nearly on the nuns before he dropped her hand and approached the group's leader.
He brushed his lips gallantly over her hand. "Oh, Sister, forgive me, for I have sinned."
"I am not the one to go to," she answered stiffly.
"But you see, my sin lies in spending an afternoon with your beautiful charge without your permission. And now I would like your permission to bring her to dinner with my parents. Would tomorrow be acceptable to you?"
"God bless you, young man!" a younger nun exclaimed tearfully, clasping his hand in both her own. "You are welcome to this angel-faced hellion any time you want. You're such a sweet young man, she'll tear you apart."
Draco kept his eyes solemnly fixed on the nun's worried face as he said, "I will do my best to keep her under control." He followed up his words with a covert wink for Trixie.
A/N: Hey, peoples. I love getting reviews. They make me write faster. And better.
