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Vanishing Act by Bookworm045
Chapter 4 : Chapter 4
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 12


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I kind of like it. It fits anyway, that whole looking at yourself in the miiror and seeing the 'familiar stranger'? Anyone? No? I'm going to sleep now.


 




 

Chapter 4


 

“It took you long enough,” I blurted out before looking away, slightly guilty.


 

“Lucy, Lucy, Lucy,” She muttered warmly, still standing in the door way.


 

“I-um- come in,” I said after a moment of fumbling around for something suitable to say.


 

She stepped into my flat, looking around for it, and I found myself suddenly craving her approval.


 

Here we go again, I thought affectionately.


 

“It’s so cute,” She murmured.


 

And that’s when I noticed a small blonde girl behind her.


 

“Who is that?” I asked her, suddenly returning to my fourteen year old self, and Rose’s trusty sidekick.


 

“I-um,” She stopped and I stared at her in shock, my mouth hanging, rather attractively, ajar.


 

Rose never fumbles with her words. It had always been amazing, the confidence she carried herself on.


 

And now, it was all gone.


 

“This is my daughter,” She finally said, placing a gentle hand on the mess of curls that hid the girl’s face as she buried it into her mum’s leg.


 

“Your daughter.” I repeated dumbly.


 

“Callidora-Arsenia… Weasley.”


 

“Who’s the father?” I asked immediately and she chuckled.


 

“Not yet, Luce. First you need to offer me a cup of that tea. I’ve been traveling all day, and it’s unusually rainy here today.”


 

I stared at her. She didn’t know?


 

She noticed my incredulous look and smiled gently, sitting down on the edge of the couch, pulling up the small girl –Callidora-Arsenia- onto her lap, the girl still hiding her face well.


 

“I guess we both have stories to tell.”


 

I nodded slowly and sat down next to her, trying not to cry.


 

She seemed to know what was running through my mind immediately, and she hugged me tightly, minding the little girl.


 

“I missed you so much,” I sniffed.


 

Rose had always been the only one who’d ever seen me cry. And vice versa.


 

She rubbed my back comfortingly and I sobbed into her shoulder hysterically, completely losing the mask I’d been wearing for the past four years.


 

Rose had returned.


 

Finally.


 

***


 

“I’m sorry,” I sniffled once more as I pulled back from her shoulder a good half an hour later. She’d sent Callidora-Arsenia off to play in the kitchen, telling her to cook something if she felt like it.


 

Which was completely barmy, as the child couldn’t be older than five. And, still, the child had hid her face from me completely.


 

I was beginning to think Rose had put her up to it.


 

“I missed you too, Luce, you have no idea.” She murmured, rubbing my back as I sat back a little bit, and we were facing each other, sitting crisscross on the couch, just like we’d done when I was little, asking Rose for advice and she was telling me about her most recent events.


 

“Why did you leave?” I whispered.


 

“For so many reasons,” she muttered, looking rueful.


 

“Is Callidora-Arsenia one of them?”


 

“Callie. You could say that.”


 

I rolled my eyes at the vague response and she grinned.


 

“You’re dead in this world,” I muttered after a few moments, “Like, literally. You’re believed to be dead.”


 

She looked strangely amused by this revelation and I found myself, once again, worrying for her sanity.


 

“I assure you,” She said cheerfully, “I’m not dead.”


 

I laughed loudly at that and she grinned.


 

“Story time?” I asked her.


 

“First you need to get a better look at Cammy,” She muttered, for once in her life looking completely and utterly guilty.


 

“Cammy? I thought you said it was Callie?”


 

She ignored me and wandered into the kitchen, beckoning me to follow her.


 

And I did, curious as to what that wonderful smell was.


 

“Callie,” Rose cooed gently, rocking the girl in her arms, the blonde curls still concealing the face.


 

“Motherhood suits you,” I commented, watching her ease at it.


 

“Always has, remember?”


 

I grinned slightly at that. She’d been voted best ‘mother’ of our family, having a strong maternal attitude.


 

She murmured something into the little girl’s ears and I strained to hear, but didn’t.


 

A few second later, eyes closed firmly but still somehow gently, the girl –Callie- turned her face to me and I gasped audibly.


 

“She looks just like- that’s imposs- no way in fuckin’ hell,” I spluttered, trying to finish a sentence in English.


 

“Yep,” Rose said, smiling slightly, looking into the distance, clearly in memories.


 

Blech.


 

The face was so unbelievably beautiful, with her messy platinum blonde curls that seemed to have a mind of their own and her delicate air-brushed features, this girl could have been introduced to me as an angel and I would have believed it.


 

But that wasn’t the reason I gasped.


 

I saw Rose in the child’s face, the high, defined, elegant cheek bones, plump red lips, her perfect ski-slope nose, and the curly hair (likely, I was able to see my cousin in her daughter purely on the fact that I knew Rose so well), but the dominant person was completely appalling, starting with the hair colour and ending with the arocratic features.


 

From the defined, strong, but still feminine in this case, chin and slightly flat forehead, to the platinum blonde hair-colour, you could easily tell who the father of this child was.


 

And that was what made me gasp.


 

Oh, fucking Merlin.


 

“There really isn’t a way that this can work out without at least a little pain.” Rose said, the same serene smile on her face.


 

I nodded mutely, still struck by the surreal beauty of the child and the new knowledge of her father.


 

“Cammy, open your eyes,” Rose urged gently. She looked back up at me. “This is the final proof that the kid is mine too. Since, you know, my place in her is very subtle.”


 

The pale eyelids flickered open quickly, and again, I was rendered speechless.


 

The large eyes staring back at me were Rose’s. 100% Rose’s.


 

No one else had those eyes.


 

They were brown, but unusually dark at that. They had always seemed deep, which was unusual for brown eyes because they usually seemed flat and shallow. But Rose’s had never seemed like that, always alive with emotion. They had little golden, hazel, and walnut coloured swirls in the irises, that seemed to always flash dangerously. The unusual –but, again, unrealistically beautiful- eyes were surrounded by thick, long, dark eyelashes, unusual for both girls as they both had pale skin.


 

And, impossibly so, it made this child so much more beautiful than she had already seemed.


 

“Is she human?” I blurted.


 

And Rose laughed. “That’s what the doctor said when I gave birth. But to answer your question, yes, Callie is very much human. Completely human.”


 

“That is so impossible,” I muttered. “And I heard the doctor asked that when you were born too.”


 

Rose flushed. For the Queen B, she’d never been good with complements.


 

I grinned.


 

“Callie is four years old.” Rose answered my unasked question, giving me a significant look, “And unusually brilliant. She also seems to have a draw to her that just renders you powerless. Popular, she is, with the kids at the daycare center. And very mischievous.”


 

She set down her daughter and the girl gracefully –far more gracefully than should be normal for someone of her age- moved to the table and climbed up onto a chair and sat there, watching us both with her –Rose’s- piercing eyes.


 

“Are you sure she’s human?” I asked quietly as I helped Rose move the food that Callie had cooked -!!- to the table and my cousin laughed her melodic laugh, her whole face lighting up.


 

“Well,” I muttered, “James always did say you two would make beautiful children.”


 

She rolled her eyes and grinned.


 

“Callie, stop being shy. This is your Aunt Lucy.”


 

The girl’s face dawned in comprehension and I figured that Rose had told her at least some of the story that I still hadn’t heard.


 

“I’m sorry,” Callie murmured, her voice every bit as unrealistically beautiful as her mother’s and I gave Rose a pointed look, mouthing ‘not human’. “It was a long journey though. I do hope you enjoy the food I prepared, but I’m quite tired. Not to sound rude, but I’ll be in the other room, I’m not hungry.”


 

I stared, my mouth gaping open, as the girl -Merlin, call her Callie- moved out of the room –yes, unnaturally graceful. I turned my face to Rose, not even bothering in attempting to close my mouth and she looked amused.


 

“She’s also fluent in French and Latin,” my cousin said, grinning slightly before her face fell ever so slightly, “But she’s dyslexic. Like both of us.”


 

“I sense another Queen,” I muttered, and Rose laughed again.


 

“Merlin, Luce, she’s only four!”


 

“She acts as if she’s twenty! And if I remember those stories correctly, so did you at her age. Has she shown signs of magic yet?”


 

Rose simply nodded, helping herself to some food that her daughter had cooked.


 

There is no way I’m awake.


 

“That child is not human!” I whisper-yelled, pointing furiously at the door the child in question had just exited.


 

Rose rolled her eyes, clearly tired of me accusing her of shacking up with non-human.


 

Because that’s what I was doing. Not that we’re prejudiced; huge blood-traitor family, remember?


 

“You never were human-like either,” I was muttering again and she was laughing once more.


 

“Eat. It’s good.”


 

“Not human,” I sang quietly as I helped myself to some food.


 

Rose snorted.


 

***


 

Callie was sleeping on the couch chair, her face looking even more angelic in sleep. If that was possible.


 

“So,” Rose muttered, trying to figure out what to say.


 

“So,” I replied, also at a loss.


 

“Let’s go over the things you know,” Rose suggested.


 

“I know that your child is inhuman, I know that said child is unrealistically beautiful, the father of child is engaged, soon to be married, and the mother of the child is here, after four years of being missing, before being announced dead. I know that the world is being taken over again, and that deaths are frequent. I know that there was more reasons than her that you left the country, and who her father is. But I need more details, and you need to be filled in on the state of the world since you left.”


 

“My child is not inhuman,” Rose muttered, “Just ‘cause she’s beautiful. Like you said, it was known that we’d make beautiful babies.”


 

“But it wasn’t expected!”


 

Rose raised an eyebrow at that protest.


 

It was a lie, and she knew it. It had been expected from day one that the two of them would get together, because everyone knew that they had chemistry.


 

And this was not going to end pretty.


 

Obviously.


 

“Why do you call her Cam?” I asked and she looked at me.


 

“The initials she was supposed to have,” Rose whispered. “We’d dated for five months, the year I fell pregnant with Cammy. He proposed. I said no; we were too young, but he said he'd wait. We broke up, and the entire relationship had stayed buried, not many having known about it to begin with. And then I found out I was pregnant. And then-” Here, Rose cut off, her eyes welling up with unshed tears.


 

“And then, he started dating Roxanne,” I murmured, “And you left. But I know there’s more. Rosalie Weasley wouldn’t leave just because her love-life was suffering some major issues.”


 

“It’s kind of one more big thing, only,” Rose muttered. And for the first time I’d ever seen, she looked scared. “One that breaks off into a million tiny things.”


 

“What is it?”


 

“Tell me your story first.”


 




I am aware this chapter sucked. Do not make me feel bad; I wrote it in ten minutes.

See, I know exactly what I want to happen in this story. I just dont know how to get it down. I've got loads of different formats of chapters written and saved everywhere, whether they're hand-written or typed. It all seems too rushed, or too crappy, or too trying-hard, or too unrealistic. I realize this is an unrealistic story, but seriously.

Also, don't tell me that Callie is a freaking Cullen. That is about the worst compliment/insult you could give me.

Review if you love me enough!
 


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