‘Julie!’
Julie wasn’t listening, or at least wasn’t bothering to respond. She was too busy walking towards the dilapidated building in front of her. Her blonde hair was no longer in its usual perfect condition, but wild and out of place. Her makeup had smudged, but Julie neglected to remove it, so her eyes were smoky and her lips were a worn and unnatural shade of red.
‘Julie, viens ici!’
Even with Lucille’s call, Julie did not turn towards her; she looked back and warily said, ‘C’est pénible. Penses-tu qu’ils sont morts?’
Her eyes stinging a little, Lucille replied, ‘Je ne sais pas. On ne le saura jamais.’
‘Non, moi je le sais,’ spat Julie with discontent. ‘Ils sont morts. Ils les ont tués.’
By ‘ils’, they both knew exactly who she was talking about. Her eyes wide with frustration, Lucille grabbed a hold of Julie’s arms and said, ‘Tu ne sais pas ce que tu dis!’
‘Non, je pense ce que j’ai raison. Va vérifier, si tu ne me crois pas. J’y allais, mais je ne veux pas voir les cadavres de mes amies.’
Part of Lucille wanted to storm into the house and show her that there was nothing to see. Clearly, her friends had moved on to another location. However, there was another part of her that didn’t dare go in, worrying that Julie might have been exactly right and that she might just be walking in to see all her friends, gone.
‘Tu ne peux pas.’ There was something triumphant in Julie’s tone that really got to Lucille. Now wasn’t the time to try and be superior, didn’t she know that? Why in Merlin’s name would she want to be right about this one?
‘C'est de cette façon que ça se passe?’asked Lucille, the pain in her eyes increasing. ‘Qu’est-ce que nous allons faire maintenant?’
‘Aucune idée. Ce n’est pas hors de danger ici. Nous pouvons aller au nord. J’ai entendu dire qu’il y a un groupe de réfugiés français.’
Even though Lucille nodded and ventured forward with Julie, it didn’t really lift her hopes. Sure, they could carry on North and meet other people, but what could they honestly do then? Coming over to England was the worst idea possible. It didn’t matter how much they wanted to be involved with the battle before. Now it just felt like they were running. Running in a place that they knew nothing of. They couldn’t even speak the language, for Merlin’s sake.
They walked for a solid hour on their own. Nothing seemed to show any signs of civilization. This was normally a bad sign for Lucille, but she knew that other people around could easily be a Mangemort.
‘Lucille?’
‘Ouais?’
‘Nous allons y arriver, n’est-ce pas? Nous allons survivre?’
‘Bien sûr,’ lied Lucille. What else was she supposed to say to that? Nobody is willing to say that they were not going to live. The only thing that they had left was hope, and she was never going to take that away from either of them, or let anyone else do so. If there was one thing she was determined to do, it was to keep her faith.
‘Oui, ça ira. Personne ne peut nous faire du mal pendant que nous sommes ensemble.’
This wasn’t what Lucille wanted. She just wanted to put it out of her mind. She knew that Julie was trying to lift up their spirits, but Lucille couldn’t believe the lie, and she thought that Julie couldn’t either. It was a nice idea, but while there was still all this going on around her, she couldn’t really accept that she was completely safe.
‘Julie, je – ’ Lucille was cut off by a rustle towards her left. Julie had obviously heard it too, as they both jumped back in alarm.
Soon, a figure emerged, tapping his wand against his pale hand.
‘What have we here?’
They both looked at each other and back; neither of them knew what he had just said. The only English they knew was how to excuse themselves, say yes and no, and thank you. Oddly enough, this was also all they had needed in the two months they had been in England.
‘Are you two deaf or something?’ The man raised his eyebrows. ‘Or just bloody stupid?’ He then raised his wand, a threat that they understood. ‘Speak to me.’
Julie shook her head. ‘Désolée, nous ne pouvons pas parler anglais.’
‘Are you taking the piss?’
Trying to search for her wand, Lucille calmly said, ‘Sorry, erm…–’
‘You’re foreign?’
Neither of them responded, having never heard that phrase before. However, Lucille knew that he was dangerous enough as she saw the tattoo that was etched on his arm. He was a Mangemort.
Lucille managed to pull out her wand, but the other man was too quick and shouted, ‘Avada Kedavra!’
At first, she winced, waiting for the pain to come. However, she soon heard a crash and she looked up once she had realised that it wasn’t her that the green light had hit. Julie’s eyes were wide as the colour drained away from her lifeless face.
Furious, Lucille whipped out her wand. The other man turned, a smirk fixed on his face, but she called out, ‘Stupéfix!’ and his body slumped to the ground.
When she was sure that he was fully disposed of, it was then she found it safe to cry by her friend’s dead body.
‘Personne ne peut nous faire du mal pendant que nous sommes ensemble,’ said Lucille bitterly, her words inaudible because of the sobs.
Pouvez-Vous Garder Un Secret? by bling_baby
Story Notes:
There's a lot of French in the beginning, but eventually it dies down. I would love people to read this because it's original.
Chapter Notes: A/N: I hope that nobody minds the fact that I haven’t translated the French, but it makes the scene that bit more mysterious. Besides, you can pretty much understand what’s going on, and it’s only for a short bit.
Also, my chapters will be longer than this one.
Chapter Endnotes: Hope you all enjoyed this! I would like to take this moment to thank my amazing French beta Viv! Reviews would be greatly appreciated!