Thicker than Water (Marauders Era)

15 June, 1975 - Aftermath

Lavinia barely slept that night. Her mind was reeling, playing the scene over and over again in her head. Her face hurt and she wished her eyes would just give up and cry. Instead they were dry as she sat on the end of her bed and stared at a blank patch of wall and thought, trying to make sense of it all. Trying to explain this away.

Her brain was not being cooperative, however, and every way she tried to rationalize it, she ended up back at the exact same place. It was her fault. Somehow this had to be her fault. Because despite all the evidence glaring her in the face, Lavinia refused - flat out refused - to believe that her mother would ever do something like this if she didn't deserve it. So it had to be her fault.

She hadn't been careful enough or she hadn't been strict enough. She should have checked the compartment door. She shouldn't have acted on her feelings. She shouldn't have gotten complacent. She shouldn't have fallen for him in the first place. She should've should've should've. And she hadn't. She'd failed. And she'd been punished accordingly.

As the night wore on and a crescent moon slipped hesitant light through her bedroom windows, Lavinia became more and more convinced. Her fault. It was her fault. Her mother wasn't a bad woman, after all, strict, but only because she wanted the best for her family. Harsh perhaps, but only in the interest of the greater good. She loved Lavinia. She would always love Lavinia. And maybe, just maybe, if she repeated it enough times in her head, those nagging voices that whispered doubts into her ears would go away.

And Alexandra... Lavinia couldn't stop herself from replaying every time she'd thought her friend - not friend, she reminded herself, recalling her mother's advice - had been acting oddly. All the times she'd found Alexandra looking shifty, or out of breath when she'd had no business hurrying anywhere or casting her sidelong looks at moments when Lavinia had had no idea what she'd done to deserve them. All the jealous stares when Lavinia and Regulus laughed together. Why hadn't she done something about it? Why hadn't she confronted her, asked what was wrong? And why, why, had she trusted her?

The answer to that last question was easy. She'd been naive. Gullible. Stupid. Her mother was right. It had been foolish of her. She had the bruise to prove it now, too. She rolled over and sighed. It was too late now, of course, but she'd learned her lesson.

It was the wee hours of the morning when Lavinia finally did fall asleep, still chanting inside her head. She loves me. She didn't mean it. She loves me. Her sleep was restless, tossing and turning, waking up and rolling over and desperately trying to get back to sleep. Trying to forget it had ever happened. Half hoping she would wake up in the morning and discover it had all been a twisted dream. A nightmare.

Of course, no such thing happened and Lavinia woke with the sun, spent an hour or so trying to pretend she could get back to sleep and eventually gave up. She sighed, staring at the ceiling and wondered vaguely what would happen if she just never got out of bed. If she stayed here and memorized the way the early morning light played on her walls. Her mother wouldn't be pleased that she'd missed breakfast, of course. And it was that thought more than anything that had Lavinia rising and getting dressed.

When she sat down in front of her vanity to do her hair, she almost swore out loud and had to look away for a moment. Aside from the usual dark circles under her eyes, which somehow seemed even darker than normal, her left cheek was bruised in shades of purple. For a long minute she just stared at it, fighting the tears pricking in her eyes.

One look through the drawers in her vanity confirmed what she already knew: she didn't have a way to hide this. Lavinia wore makeup occasionally, but not usually foundation. She'd been born lucky and her skin usually stayed clear. Which now meant she was going to have to go down for breakfast with half her face looking like poorly brewed dreamless sleep potion.