The Devil In Disguise (Marcel/Harry Fanfic)

Everything seemed to be mocking me, how she was killed with my own stake...the Rose petals that littered the room, somehow I knew that her death was no accident and his voice echoed in my mind "To Late Sweetheart"

My hands clenched into fists, he had done this...I knew it in my heart.

An hour later I was in my room trying not to cry, Linda wouldn't have wanted me to cry...then my door opened, I stiffened then relaxed when my dad came into my room.

He was smiling but he looked quite pale and was sniffling. Instead of focusing on the fact that I almost hadn't seen him all year I said "Got a cold dad?"

My dad nodded and but to my surprise was smiling "Yes, I can't smell anything or taste anything but I have some good news"

"What is it?" I asked while I thought bitterly are you going to leave me for longer this time?

He said "You know I haven't told you what my job is? Well I need to in top shape for it and with this cold my boss's have told me I can take a whole week of!"

For that moment I forgot about Linda's death and I didn't think, how am I going to hide my vampire slaying job from his now? All I thought was YES!!

Like a little girl I laughed with joy and jumped up then hugged him hard.

As I hugged him I frowned, a very familiar coppery smell gripped me.

"Dad, what's that smell?" I asked, knowing exactly what that smell was but hoping I was wrong.

My dad stiffened then said "Oh it might be that red wine I have been drinking, I'd spilt some of it on the floor to.

I shook my head "That's not it..."

He said slowly "Well I can't smell anything but maybe its the cut I've got..."

My eyes narrowed "Cut? What cut?"

My dad suddenly looked embarrassed "I drank lots of wine, along with vodka then when I woke up I tripped and fell on our window in our living room and um the glass broke and it turns out glass can cut really well..

I watched, horrified as my dad pulled down his sleeve and a very long, deep jagged cut was along half of his arm with tiny small cuts around the deep, long one.

I gasped "Shit dad! You should get that looked at!"

I went to hold his injured arm but my dad pulled his sleeve down fast and jerked his arm away from me and grumbled "It'll be fine, just telling you what that smell is and why when you go down stairs see some blood in the living room and the broken window"

Before I could say anything my dad switched the subject "Now shouldn't you be in school at the moment young lady?"

I groaned, this is why I didn't want my dad around I thought.

But I couldn't help but think...if dad was telling me the truth...why hadn't he looked me in the eyes while he was talking? And why had he looked so uncomfortable?

Notes