Slowly figuring it out

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           False stared at the stolen notebook, reading and rereading it over and over again. It was definitely her other self's notebook. For one thing, the handwriting was eerily similar to her own, and the author kept referring to the tinkerer as her clone. But what threw False off was how the author seemed to feel while she was writing.

           It started out simple enough. The notebook listed down some observations the other False had made about the clone's behavior or the state of Cogsmeade. Those were understandable enough. But then the notebook started to mention the killings. It said things like how the other False was certain that it was grand architect False who did it, and noted in a relieved tone that she didn't seem to remember doing it and appeared horrified when she discovered the bodies, which meant that the clone could still be saved. 

           She immediately thinks it's me. But I didn't kill them. Did I? False racked her memory but as usual, it was faulty and unreliable. What if I did kill them and I forgot? She remembered the flashbacks she had when she stared into fire. The flashbacks of her hurting other people. The way the other me doesn't sound surprised... She's seen me do this kind of thing before. False reread a line or two. 'She can still be saved.' She wants to... stop me. But in a... good way? 

           It just confused False even more. Then something occurred to her. If I'm right that the other False wiped my memory... Did she do it because of stuff I did? So I wouldn't do it again? It made sort of sense in a roundabout way. But the more False read in the notebook, the more everything she assumed she knew for a fact were turned upside-down. Maybe that's why she's spying on me? So she knows I won't do anything like that again? But then the biggest surprise and confusion came. 

           "She's made a happy life here. I can't take that away from her," False repeated aloud. She wants me to be happy? But she's avoiding me. She makes people lie about her to me. It's like she doesn't want me to be around her. Why? Ugh, I can't figure this out! She groaned in frustration and threw the notebook aside. Ginny gave off a yowl of surprise as the book came hurtling her way and scampered off, but False barely noticed. This notebook was supposed to make me understand more, not make me more confused. 

           Sighing, False tried to put her thoughts back in order. I can't figure this out. Maybe the only person who truly knows what's going on is the other False. But how can I ask her about this if she keeps on avoiding me? False paused. Why is she avoiding me, anyway? Is she worried that I'll try to kill her? That thought painfully reminded her of the murders. Then a thought occurred to her. Maybe if I figure out who's actually killing those people, if I can convince her it's not me, maybe she'll think differently of me and I can talk to her. 

           That was easier said than done, of course. The trail of the murderer had most likely gone cold a long time ago, but False was determined. She finally had something solid, something definite to work towards. And all this would bring her a step closer to her other self. 

---

           Jimena found herself moving away from Gem and Scott, her guilt over spying on them taking control of her body. But they didn't know that she'd spied on them. Yet. Jimena's shady expression seemed to want to tell them what she just did. She busied herself with uselessly fumbling with a costume she wasn't even going to wear, keeping her face carefully turned away from the newcomers. 

           "Hi, Gem!" fWhip said. Jimena heard the rustling of cloth and imagined him holding up a costume. "What do you think?" "I think it looks drab," Gem said. "Do you have to be brutally honest?" fWhip whined, disappointed. "You asked me what I thought!" Gem protested. fWhip paused for a second. "Ah well, I'm wearing it anyway!" He said. 

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