Fun Fair, Ferris Wheel: trust
Fun Fair, Ice Cream: tutti fruitti (Alecto Carrow) and rhubarb (Petunia Dursley)
Word Count: 380
Alecto knows that she should know care for the Muggle—Petunia; such a pretty name for such a pretty woman. And yet she does.
She shouldn't trust Petunia. Muggles are horrible, filthy, interior things, and they should be treated as such. Alecto cannot bring herself to hate the strange blonde women.
"Finish her," Amycus had hissed as they'd stood amongst the rubble of the safehouse.
Perhaps it would have been kinder to kill her. After all, her husband and son are dead. Why not let her join them? The only good Muggle is a dead Muggle.
But she can't. Something stirs within Alecto. For the first time in her life, she wants to be the hero.
"Everything will be okay," Alecto tells her, pushing her pudgy fingers through Petunia's silky hair with a smile. "You're safe. I'm here."
Petunia still wakes up screaming from the nightmares. At first, she hadn't wanted Alecto to hold her. Now, her slender arms always reach for the Death Eater.
"I need you to trust me," Alecto whispers.
The Muggle woman glares at her in silence.
"I'm risking everything to save you. Please…"
Almost hesitantly, the woman takes her hand.
She had thought the Dark Lord's victory would be a reason to celebrate. Instead, Alecto finds herself on the run and in hiding, praying that the ones she had once served will never find her. Desertion is bad enough; abandoning her ranks for the love of a Muggle is the highest form of treason.
But Alecto doesn't care. She holds Petunia close, pressing sweet, chaste kisses to her forehead and cheeks, hoping that it is enough to chase away the nightmares.
"Why didn't you let me die?" Petunia whispers, her sleepless eyes fixed upon the starry sky beyond the window.
"I don't know."
And it's the truth. Alecto isn't the brightest, but she isn't enough of a fool to believe in love at first sight. But something had drawn her to Petunia; something had made her show mercy and defy everything she had ever believed.
"Will this ever be over?" she whispers, her thin lips tickling Alecto's neck.
Alecto can't bring herself to admit the truth: she doesn't know that either. Instead, she presses her lips to her lover's, and she hopes that it is enough.
