part xxxii - bet on losing dogs

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October 31st, 1946

Children roamed around the neighborhood, their paths averting the graveyard that stood on the opposite side of the street. 

They told the stories of ghosts and vampires that haunted that graveyard and often saw the shadowy figure of a vengeful spirit hanging around the secluded area. 

As the children quickly passed by, Y/n lit a cigarette, inhaling the smoke deeply before releasing it back into the crisp autumn air. 

Y/n was dressed in all black robes, her hood concealing the details of her face. She loomed over the mossy graves, the flowers sitting beside it nearly withering away. Her skin was paler, mostly from the lack of sunlight she received. Her frame was thinner, caused by her lack of appetite. 

Ever since the funeral -- which was much more extravagant than Y/n had wished it was -- she visited their graves every night. Occasionally, flowers from Minister Moon would appear, as well as letters for Y/n. 

But Y/n felt undeserving of their condolences. She had failed her parents, the very people she vowed to protect. 

I failed you. Y/n would mutter to herself over and over again until it became a phrase etched across her brain. I did this to you. 

While vengeance roamed around in her mind, grief stopped her from even considering a plan of action. She was numb, a complete ghost. 

Suddenly, thunder boomed in the distance as children shrieked in fear. Y/n played with the edge of her sleeve and bit the side of her cheek, knowing very well that it wasn't the thunder they needed to fear- it was the lightning. 

Besides her feet was the Daily Prophet. Minister Moon had declared war against all dark magic fronts, Tom's face being printed across every copy. Someone had revealed the identity Y/n had sought to remain a secret, yet another failure of hers. 

She kicked the newspaper to the side, not wanting to be reminded of her mistakes any longer. She would redeem herself, in one way or another. 

Suddenly, she heard the sound of leaves crunching beneath someone's feet behind her. Y/n kept her eyes fixed on her parent's graves until a familiar presence approached her, his shadow engulfing hers. Y/n sighed and tossed the cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath her feet. 

"How are you?" He spoke softly and sincerely. 

"I feel like shit," Y/n said bluntly. "Been better."

Tom slightly chuckled. "I guess that makes two of us."

Y/n tore her eyes from the ground and peered up at Tom. He examined the graves intricately, a look of regret creeping across his face. 

"I hope you know I wasn't the one who told the ministry about..." She trailed off, Tom's expression silencing her.

"Don't you think I trust you?" He raised his eyebrows and lifted her chin with the edge of his finger, smirking. "I know you would never."

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