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Chapter 1 : This Unravelling
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Lucy and I, we were never that close. We never really fit together as friends, despite the fact that we're only a few months apart in age. I guess it's like that Muggle saying, “you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink”. No matter how much everyone around us tried, Lucy and I just weren't destined to be friends. I mean, she refused to actually be sociable, while I have more friends than I can count. Let's face it, Albus always drowns himself in books, but if someone who knows the book content starts up a conversation pertaining to it, you can't shut him up. Lucy was just quiet. She answered us in as few words as possible, and always tried to stay away from the drama that's embedded into our family.
Out of all of us, Lucy was the misfit.
Even so, we loved her. Even me, although I'll admit I never really told her outright. She's my cousin, of course I love her to bits, but how do you tell someone you rarely speak to that you love them? It's just too awkward to contemplate. I thought Lucy's mum and dad, and Molly, would have at least told her. I was wrong. As our family sit in the lounge-kitchen of The Burrow – it was made open-plan after Victoire left Hogwarts and could help Grandpa with ordering the builders around – Aunt Audrey is weeping over the fact that she never said those three words enough.
I love you. How hard is it to tell your own child that? According to Aunt Audrey, it's the hardest thing in the world. I want to tell her that it's supposed to be the easiest, but our family are honest to the core if nothing else and someone will definitely point out that I'm being a hypocrite if I do.
Does it mean that Lucy was unlovable? Or does it mean that each and every one of us, supposedly wonderful Weasleys, are cold-hearted psychopaths?
The sound of Uncle Percy loudly clearing his throat gets all of our attentions and I turn to look at him, along with everyone else.
“Perhaps we should host a memorial for Lucy? And Hugo, too? Now that it's been confirmed that they're both dead?” Uncle Percy suggests, insensitively as usual.
It becomes quite obvious in that moment that Molly isn't one of those people who believe that vampires are dead. It's impossible for me to tell you if it's her horrified expression or the ear-splitting screech that she emits a few seconds later, which confirms that for me. It might be when she Vanishes the papers in front of him once she realizes that they're estimates for hosting a memorial and carving a plaque for her. Meanwhile, Rose bursts into another flood of tears, while Aunt Hermione lets out a loud sob.
If a stranger asked me right now, I would tell them – quite adamantly – that everyone is grieving for both of them. But honestly, the truth is that we're all missing Hugo alone and everybody in this goddamn room knows it. We're supposed to be Gryffindors - or at least most of us - and yet we can't even admit the truth to ourselves. We can't even be honest to the people we love and say that although we love Lucy, we love Hugo more.
“Molly, please don't cause a scene,” Aunt Audrey pleads. Even now, after she's been a part of our family for almost thirty years, she's still worried about being embarrassed in front of us.
It's crazy. My family are crazy, and I hate it.
“We need to clear out their bedrooms,” Uncle Bill interrupts. “I'm sure that even though Lucy and Hugo are vampires, they'll want some of their old possessions.”
Rose immediately says she'll do Hugo's, and then everyone looks at each other, nobody willing to take on the task of emptying Lucy's bedroom. Clearing out the bedroom of a dead relative is difficult enough, but clearing out their bedroom and then returning their possessions to them? That's just downright creepy – I'm impressed that Rose is doing it. She's got a heart of gold, though; if she thinks it'll help Hugo, she'll do it.
I guess it's a job that needs to be done. For Hugo – and for Lucy too, most importantly Lucy. In the end, it is Lucy who's been living as a vampire for over a year, unable to get back in touch with us. Hugo's vampirism... well, he went onto vampire territory without protection. I can understand the reason why he died, as much as I hate it. Lucy's another matter. She was on Muggle territory. In fact, she wouldn't even have been there if I hadn't dragged her and Hugo out on a stupid double date with Thad – my boyfriend of three months at the time, and who I desperately needed an excuse to break up with. I'd thought that if Hugo and Lucy were there, I could drop subtle hints to get him to take us back to his apartment, and then complain that he'd been really rude to my relatives by abandoning them.
I couldn't have just broken up with him without a valid reason, not even though he was a Squib living a Muggle lifestyle. The press would have tracked him down and wormed my secrets out of him, therefore dragging Mum and Dad's names through the mud by saying that they had brought up a cold-hearted bitch for a daughter, or something similar. It's one of the curses of being a Potter or a Weasley: the world demands perfection, and they hate you if you aren't perfect.
Lucy wasn't perfect, but no-one slated her for it – and I hate her for it; I still do, no matter how much I love her. But I do love her, and it's time to show it. Better late than never, right?
I stand up to get everyone's attention – I'm more refined than unsubtle throat-clearing – before I make my announcement.
“I'll do it. I'll clean out Lucy's room.”
The looks of incredulity that I receive is proof that it needs to be me doing this.
“Lily, are you sure?” Mum asks, concern etched upon her face. I don't blame her. They all listened to Hugo when he visited with that vampire friend of his and explained everything – including the truth. Including how Lucy became a vampire, and why she was so vulnerable in the first place.
In the end, it's quite simple. I know the truth, and so do they.
Lucy Weasley is dead because of me.
Lucy's bedroom is nothing like I expect. As soon as I push the door open, the scent of vanilla emits from the room. Everything is ordered neatly, a far cry from my own chaos. Her books are organized pristinely, alphabetically by the author's surname then in the case of multiple books by the same person, order of publication. I'll have to get Albus to loan me one of his trunks to store all of Lucy's books in so that they can be transported. I didn't even realize she had this many.
On her desk is a Muggle board game that I recognize as one of the games we play at Uncle Dudley's house. Cluedo. A murder mystery game where you have to work out who killed the victim. There are a lot of suspects, just like with Lucy, even though I'm the only one who knows most of them. When Hugo brought his vampire friend to The Burrow, I realized that I'd seen him before.
He is dark-skinned, with sparkling chocolate eyes, leaning against the counter of the bistro. He smiles at me when I pass him to visit the bathroom, and when I come back, he grabs my hand and pulls me near him, away from the mélee. I can feel my body tensing in fear, ready to scream, but his eyes are kind and honest, silencing me for long enough to hear what he wants to say.
“Your friend over there, the one with the blonde hair,” he says. “What's her name?”
“Lucy,” I answer, not wanting to elaborate further. We're in a Muggle restaurant, after all, and it's more likely that he's a Muggle rather than a wizard. I can't risk mentioning that she's Lucy Weasley, the Minister for Magic's daughter, in case he knows nothing about my world.
He nods. “Does she have a boyfriend?”
I shake my head. “Not that I know of. I can't be sure, though. Why don't you just ask her?”
The man laughs. Through his tightly-fitted shirt, I can see rippling muscles – he obviously works out. "I don't think I'd be her type."
"You never know," I shrug. "I know she's planning on getting the tube home tonight; maybe you could 'bump' into her on her way home?"
His expression becomes contemplative as he muses about what I said - at least, that's what I think - and then he nods. "Maybe I'll do that. Thanks."
I smile, walking back to the table with the satisfaction that at the very least, I'd tried to set Lucy up with someone - hopefully, he would put a smile on her face. In hindsight, if I had known that he was a vampire, I wouldn't have put her at risk. I wouldn't have told him her name, or put that idea into his head. I had assumed that he was a Muggle; that as a witch, Lucy would be able to defend herself against him. But when Hugo came home and brought a centuries-old vampire with him, it felt like the world had ended. It still does.
Is Jeremiah the vampire who turned Lucy? Did he do it because of what I told him?
Colonel Mustard, in the study, with the candlestick. Or Jeremiah Daniels, on the path leading to the Underground station, with his fangs?
How do I tell the difference? How do I work out what the truth is? How can I tell everyone else what happened between that vampire and me that night; how I've met Jeremiah before even though I pretended I didn't know him, when it is over a year too late?
When I see Hugo, his skin is pale. I'm not sure if it's because he's a vampire now, or if he's been through the same worry as us. He's not supposed to be here; the Ministry restricts vampires from mixing with humans unless they've got a willing proficient witch or wizard to shadow them so that they can't hurt anyone without being cursed. Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione said they'd take responsibility for him, and I can't see either of them which means Hugo must be breaking the rules.
"You should go," I whisper.
I don't want to get him in trouble. I don't want to be special enough for him to risk his life to see me, when I don't deserve that privilege.
"Dad's at the end of the hallway," Hugo says. "I asked him for a little space, so that we could talk."
I stare at Hugo, not sure of what to say. We both know that if he uses vampire speed to enter Lucy's room, Uncle Ron won't get here fast enough to save me from being bitten. Technically, the both of them are abiding by the rules right now, but just one footstep in the wrong direction and it could all change. He knows it, and so do I - but I don't warn him off. How can I, when I don't have that right? Hugo claims he's never bitten a human being in the short time that he's been a vampire, that all of the blood he's drunk has been from hospital supplies, provided by Muggle blood donors who think they're saving lives. Who technically are saving lives.
In all honesty, when you look at the facts, I'm more of a murderer than Hugo is.
"I'm scared, Lily," he whispers. "I'm scared that she hasn't forgiven me."
"What would Lucy need to forgive you for?" I ask. It doesn't make sense; I'm the one she ought to hate, the one she most likely hasn't forgiven yet and probably won't, ever.
"I didn't even walk her to the Underground. I didn't bother to take her home or even ask if she wanted me with her. I just left her, Lily, left Lucy to fend for herself. Would that vampire really have chosen to attack her if there had been two of us?"
I can't believe Hugo's weeping over something that anyone else would have done. I would have done it if I'd been the one left behind. I had expected him to leave her; that's why I suggested that Jeremiah approach Lucy on her way home - because I knew that Hugo wouldn't be with her. He didn't break any moral obligations; he didn't betray her and put her in danger like I did.
"It wasn't your fault," I protest, wishing that he would just leave. "Lucy shouldn't have expected you to drop everything for her."
"She didn't expect me to," Hugo answers. "But she wanted me to, and that's enough for me to know that I let her down."
I scoff at the preposterous declaration, and Hugo's crimson eyes suddenly flare with anger. Slowly, carefully, he steps into Lucy's room and picks up the nearest thing to hand - a Cluedo playing card; specifically, Reverend Green. How appropriate for can-do-no-wrong Hugo. As Uncle Ron appears in the doorway, panting for breath, Hugo takes another step towards me before slowly ripping up the playing card and throwing them in the air before blowing the tattered pieces into my face.
"Her life has been ripped to pieces, Lily," he hisses. "And it's my fault, because I left her when I shouldn't have - so don't you try to pretend that it isn't, that you would have done the same because you wouldn't." Yes, I would. "You're too much of a good person to do something like that." No, I'm not.
Reverend Green, in the living room, with the dagger. Or Hugo Weasley, under the restaurant's canopy, with sheer abandon?
What if he's right? What if he should have protected her, and I didn't bother to ensure that he did? Forget what kind of a person that makes him - what kind of a person does make me?
I shake my head determinedly. It's not Hugo's fault, not after what I did. Not after I let him and Lucy down, both of them suffering for my actions. Lucy became a vampire and Hugo's been guilt-ridden ever since, all because I didn't give him a kick up the backside. Hugo huffs loudly, storming out of Lucy's room with Uncle Ron close on his heels. Out of frustration, I reach out and hit the nearest thing - the Cluedo board, which breaks from the force of my closed fist colliding with it, the playing cards fluttering in the air like abnormally large confetti. My eyes start to water, hot tears scorching my cheeks as they run down my face.
I hate it. I hate that I let everyone down. I hate that Hugo doesn't give a damn about how apocalyptically I screwed up. I hate that Lucy's a vampire and by extension, so is Hugo, because it should never have happened - wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so selfish.
Most importantly of all, I hate that it's all my fault.
When I leave the restaurant, Thad's fingers intertwined with mine, I don't expect to see Alexis Longbottom. Hugo told me that Ally was working tonight, which is why I had to invite Lucy, to keep the numbers even. She's dressed really casually though - then again, I don't know what she usually wears when she's vampire-slaying - and she's engrossed in a conversation with a woman who looks anything but casual. The woman isn't wearing a business suit or formal dress robes, but her white gown just screams Posh! and it's enough to make me tug Thad's hand, subtly telling him to go in the other direction to avoid her.
Unfortunately, my boyfriend isn't as bright as I thought he was when we first started dating. He ignores my request and bounds up to Alexis - I think his parents are friends with her mum, Hannah Longbottom, and that's how they know each other - with a loud greeting that quickly draws the attention of the people sitting around us.
"Sorry," I mutter under my breath, but I'm not sure if she can hear me over the hubbub.
"Hi Thad, hi Lily," Ally says uncertainly, her eyes flickering towards the other woman. "Valérie, this is Thad and his girlfriend Lily, friends of mine. I think I've mentioned Lily before - she's Hugo's cousin. Guys, this is my boss, Valérie Mimieux."
"Hi, Val," Thad smiles, and I see Valérie's eyes narrow dangerously. "Comment ça va?" he asks, in an astronomically awful French accent.
"Valérie," she says, proffering her hand for us to shake. "Never any other variation. And I'm fine, merci - although Miss Longbottom and I are rather busy tonight."
"Oh, how many vampires will you be slaying tonight?" Thad chuckles. In that second I see both women pale significantly, and Valérie makes an involuntary movement, as if she is instinctively going to strangle him.
"You should not have said that," she hisses, stepping closer to Thad so that their faces are directly opposite each other. "Vampires have excellent hearing; if the pair we hope to catch were within earshot just now, you might have blown tonight's entire operation!"
"I'm sorry -" Thad begins to protest, but Valérie holds her hand up to indicate that she doesn't want to hear and turns to Ally, speaking in a quiet voice.
"Contact Mademoiselle Saunière. If either of them saw us and realized that this connard was speaking to us, our covers are blown. We need someone unknown to use as bait."
Thad and I make our excuses and quickly leave, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I can't believe that he could say something like that, especially so carelessly. Surely, when his own dad was a vampire slayer once, he should know better?
And in hindsight, I can't believe that I wasn't worried about the fact that vampire slayers were operating in the same area I had just left Hugo and Lucy in. I should have let go of Thad's hand, ran back into the restaurant and warned them both - especially Lucy, since she couldn't Apparate away - that vampire slayers were in the area and ergo, so were vampires. Even though I didn't know what Jeremiah was at the time, Valérie's presence should have been enough warning. What if her Miss Saunière wasn't available, or couldn't get there in time? What if Valérie needed bait? What if she, without telling Alexis - because I honestly don't believe Ally would have lied about something so important, for over a year - decided that she had to use a Muggle for bait? What if she mistook Lucy for a Muggle, and used her?
Mrs White, in the kitchen, with a rope. Or Valérie Mimieux, in the restaurant, with an illegal Imperius Curse?
Dad always says that the Ministry will go to any lengths to catch a criminal if necessary. He's been trying to change the rules that let them endanger other people without a care, but I'm pretty sure that his new laws haven't yet been extended to the Department of Magical Creatures.
What if Lucy was Valérie's sacrificial lamb?
"Lily?" I recognize Albus' voice; can see his silhouette standing in the doorway and blocking my light. "Hugo said you were upset. I'd say that's an understatement, looking at this mess."
The mess that Albus refers to is the broken Cluedo board in pieces on the floor, the playing cards scattered everywhere. I guess Hugo heard me lose my temper earlier when he was leaving. Everyone seems so fussed about me being upset though. I have a bloody right to be upset, for God's sake: Lucy's dead and it's my fault!
"I'm not one of your students," I mutter, wishing he would just leave me in peace. "I don't need you to supervise me."
"I'm not supervising you, Lily, I'm just worried about you," he protests, but I ignore him.
Does it really matter what his intentions are? Why can't he understand that perhaps the reason I want to be left alone is because of the way he makes me feel as if I'm being supervised? I'm not in Azkaban - though technically, I should be - but everyone else seems determined to suffocate me. At least in Azkaban, the Dementors would give me a goddamn break, because there's no way that I could feel worse than I do right now.
"Lily, if you're blaming yourself for Lucy being a vampire, please don't. You couldn't have known what was going to happen that night; anyone else could invited her out to a Muggle restaurant."
But it's not just that, isn't it? It's the fact that I left her with Hugo, who thought she would be okay - who I didn't warn, just like I didn't warn Lucy. I knew vampires and vampire slayers were prowling the area, but I didn't warn her of the danger. Whether she was an innocent victim of a hungry vampire or she was forced by Valérie Mimieux to be bait in a vampire capture, Lucy could still have been on the alert instead of believing that she was safe.
"Lily, don't blame yourself," he says. "You didn't know what would happen when you invited Lucy and Hugo out for dinner, just like I didn't know what would happen when I persuaded Lucy to go."
"What do you mean?" I ask, frowning in confusion.
Albus sighs. "Lucy was supposed to be in Hogsmeade that night - with me. She said that she had something to talk about, and she could only discuss it with me. At first I happily agreed, but then I realized I'd double-booked myself. I wasn't sure what to do, until Lucy owled me to say that you'd invited her out, and she'd tried to get out of it but neither you nor Hugo would take no for an answer."
Albus exhales again, running one hand through his hair before continuing. "I told her that she should just go; that it would be easier to indulge the both of you and we could meet another day. I was happy that I wouldn't have to cancel my other plans; they were important. I thought that by persuading Lucy to go to dinner with you and Hugo and whatever your boyfriend's name was, I wouldn't let down Lucy or have to change my original plans - which couldn't be changed without upsetting the other person."
"And the other person mattered?" I ask, even though I know it's a pointless question. Albus might blame himself, but it's clear who's truly at fault - he even said so himself.
I wouldn't take no for an answer.
If I had, Albus would have been forced to cancel his other plans, or put off his meeting with Lucy, who would therefore have ditched us and had a night in or spent it somewhere else - somewhere safer. Why is he so convinced that it's his fault? Why can't he understand that the answer is crystal clear, as obvious as a pink elephant in the room right now?
Professor Plum, in the bathroom, with the lead pipe. Or Professor Albus Potter, in the form of a letter, with negligence he shouldn't be hated for?
Let's face it, Lucy was the misfit. Al, and I, and everyone else, had more important people in our lives than her. If this other person, whoever he or she was, is more important to Albus than some possibly time-wasting dinner or whatever it was they'd planned, no-one will blame him. They'll all understand.
If only the same could be said in my case.
"I should have listened when she said no the first time," I protest. "You wouldn't have been in that situation if it wasn't for me. If I hadn't practically forced Lucy to come to dinner, she would have stayed home instead - because honestly, no-one would have blamed you for cancelling on her, especially as it was a genuine mistake double-booking yourself. I think even Lucy herself would have understood, Al."
Albus looks up at me, shaking his head.
"Answer me this honestly, Lily. Did you really know Lucy well enough to be sure of that?"
There is an awkward pause before I reply.
"Did you know her well enough to be sure that she wouldn't understand?"
In that moment, it's quite clear that maybe, just maybe, Albus and I are both at fault for the fact that Lucy came to dinner. Yet, when everything else is added into the equation, he's completely blameless.
And I'm not.
Thad is furious with me. Even after he embarrassed the both of us in front of Ally and her boss, he's trying to make it sound as if I was the one to blame. It's not like I secretly cast an Imperius Curse on him, is it? Anyone else would be cringing with mortification after such a public case of foot-in-mouth syndrome, and doing their best not to draw attention to themselves. Not Thad. He grabs my wrist, pulling me so that I turn to face him.
"Why didn't you tell me that Alexis was working tonight?"
"What difference does it make?" I exclaim. "It's not like her job affects you, apart from keeping a lot of people safe from vampires!"
"You don't understand, Lily," he says, but whatever he was going to say after that is lost as a woman bumps into him and he loses his balance, spinning precariously on his feet. "Hey!"
"I'm so sorry," the woman says with a smile, but to me it's quite clearly a fake apology. "I wasn't watching where I was going." That's pretty clear, considering that this is a wide pavement and Thad and I are near the buildings, leaving plenty of room for passersby.
"It's not a problem." Thad shakes his head with a pleasant expression upon his features. "I walk into stuff - and people - all the time too, so it's no big deal."
I raise an eyebrow. Since when? Thad and I might have only been dating for three months, but I've never known him to walk into people or objects - in fact, every time I do, he complains I should have been paying attention to where I was walking.
"Besides," Thad continues, "it's hardly unpleasant to bump into such a pretty woman. I'm Thad, by the way."
I can't stop my jaw from dropping open in surprise. It's as if Thad has completely forgotten all about my presence, and while I'm not the most gorgeous girl on the planet or anything, I know that I'm just as pretty as this slim brunette with her blue blazer and knee-high leather boots.
"I'm Claudine," the woman says, giving Thad a flirty smile before turning to me so that our eyes meet. "And you are?"
Speaking through gritted teeth, I manage to answer her without strangling either of them, which in my opinion deserves a World Cup award. "I'm his girlfriend."
"Whoops," Claudine answers, but it's clear from the smirk on her face that this is all a joke to her. "I think I'd better go. Nice to meet you, Thad... and your girlfriend." At least she acknowledges me, which I suppose most boyfriend thieves wouldn't. I know I'm planning on ending things with Thad, but that doesn't mean I like having my boyfriend chat up another girl in front of me, or seeing her reciprocate.
Claudine turns to look at me again, and I'm slightly creeped out by her gaze without understanding why. It's just a gut feeling; something inside me is screaming that I shouldn't stay any longer, but there doesn't seem to be a reason for why. Thad smiles as Claudine walks away, but then his pleasant expression fades as he looks at me.
"What did you have to be so rude to her for, Lily?" he exclaims, and I'm speechless. I can't even contemplate a sentence in response, let alone speak a word. "She was being nice!"
"To you, maybe," I grumble, turning away from him and walking away. Screw my original plan of dumping him; anyone would understand after learning about what I had just witnessed with my own eyes. Thad doesn't even bother to chase after me, simply turning around and walking the few feet remaining to the door of his block of flats. I'm left alone, surrounded by strangers who I know nothing of and who have absolutely no idea of magic.
And that's when it hits me. Claudine's eyes were amber.
I close my eyes, trying to think of a plausible reason why she had amber eyes, but all I can think of is more evidence that she's a vampire. I can almost hear Alexis' voice in my head, explaining to me the way a vampire gets more beautiful to Muggles as they get older; a self-preservation mechanism they have to lure their victims into the shadows, because older vampires need blood to replenish themselves more than younger ones too. Apparently, amongst their own, vampires are stronger with age but against human weapons like aconite or silver, the older they are, the less resilient they'll be. Coloured eyes, from crimson red to icy cream, are just one of many signs of a vampire. Another sign is how dazzling they appear to Muggles - probably the reason Thad was so besotted with Claudine when we met her. Even though he's a Squib, he still doesn't have magic in his veins, just like a Muggle.
And I - exceptionally stupidly, I'll admit - just let her walk away.
I should have realized what she was, after all those lectures from Alexis about the ever-growing problem of vampires. Even if the signs weren't obvious with Jeremiah, they were with Claudine. I met a vampire, conversed with her, stood barely a few inches away from her. And through all that, I didn't scream for Alexis or Valérie or even try to get their attentions.
Mrs Peacock, in the billiard room, with the spanner. Or Claudine, in the Muggle streets of London, with her dazzling charm and thirst for blood?
I looked a vampire in the eyes, and I didn't notice what she was until it was too late. There's every possibility that Claudine was the vampire who turned Lucy... and that means that again, it's my fault.
I know that I'm the only one who truly understands what happened that night - and even then, I still don't know the full story. I know that most people don't even realize just who was there. Not even I do - there could have been someone else who I didn't encounter.
There are a few things that I can tell you for certain, though. A few scenarios that just won't get themselves out of my head.
Scenario One: I lie to Jeremiah, and tell him that Lucy has a big beefy boyfriend. I pretend she's going home in a taxi, where he can't access. Because of that lie, he's discouraged from going after her. Instead, he stays in the restaurant or chooses another victim. Lucy survives.
Scenario Two: I act more like saintly Hugo, and I'm there for Lucy. Instead of focusing on myself and Thad, I Apparate her home, then pretend that I simply walked her to the Underground station. Because of that, she doesn't walk home - and she's not in danger. Lucy survives.
Scenario Three: When Thad and I meet Valérie and Alexis, I don't let him drag me away from his embarrassment. Instead, I run back into the restaurant where Hugo and Lucy are, and warn them that vampires are prowling the area. She takes precautions, maybe gets Hugo to Apparate her home. Lucy survives.
Scenario Four: Albus informs Lucy that he accidentally double-booked and has other plans. Lucy's disappointed, and declines my invitation for dinner. I graciously accept her declination and waylay someone else instead. Lucy stays at home or does something that doesn't involve visiting that Muggle restaurant we were at. Lucy survives.
Scenario Five: I recognize Claudine as a vampire as soon as I see her. I make my excuses, get Thad away from her without arousing suspicion, and warn Alexis and Valérie of her presence. They, with or without their Miss Saunière, catch her. She doesn't lurk around the alley where Lucy was turned. Lucy survives.
It's quite clear, isn't it? When you look at the whole picture, you can see it: my series of apocalyptic screw-ups that led to this point. If I had done just one of those things, Lucy might be alive. She might be a normal, happy witch and consequently, so would Hugo.
It's me. It's all me.
One of the Cluedo cards is underneath my foot, and I move it to see the final player.
Miss Scarlett, in the bedroom, with the revolver.
I didn't know until a few years ago that a scarlet woman is often known as a tart, according to Mum. Although in her opinion, a tart and a prostitute are synonymous so it's hard to tell if she means a slut or just someone who falls into bed with a random bloke easily, someone like me. A scarlet woman is also someone who lies, who seduces, who pretends that the world isn't as corrupted as it really is - again, a definition that describes me, rather appropriately too with my red hair. I guess that you could say I'm a scarlet Lily. A real-life Miss Scarlett, with blood on her hands - because the mistakes are mine. I know the truth, after all this unravelling, even if my family refuse to accept it - but they know, too. Nobody except me is willing to say it out loud - but I have to say it, to remind myself that it's true.
Lucy Weasley is dead because of me.
I hope you like this one-shot, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on Lily! Did I portray her survivor's guilt accurately, or do you feel that she's too selfish? What were your favourite bits? Did you like the way I used Cluedo in the one-shot? Were the sections too confusing? Even just a line would make my day, honestly ♥
Thank you, as always, to the wonderful ValWitch21 for assassinating with the French translations in this one-shot, which are as follows:
Comment ça va = how are you
Merci = thank you
Mademoiselle = miss
Connard = twat
I'd just like to add that I don't own the board game Cluedo or any of the characters, weapons, or rooms mentioned that pertain to it, which is owned by Waddingtons. Well, I do own a spanner, but it's never been used as a murder weapon ;)
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