Identity Revealed
Gerard had no idea why Inès would ask him, Anatole and Filibert to follow her into the empty library at night, but he hoped it was for something sensational.
"I was looking through old history books," Inès said, apparently disagreeing with the words of Professor Ardouin. "And... I found her."
"Who?" Anatole asked. Inès' tone betrayed that it was either Madame Nuit or Adele they were talking about. And one was more likely to be found in books than the other. Still, Gerard understood why his friend wanted to make sure.
Friends? Was that what they were? Gerard couldn't help but replay their almost-kiss in his mind. It made him feel weirdly warm inside.
"Look for M.N." Inès explained. "Your father's words, Gerard."
Gerard loved his friend, but he couldn't help but feel inadequate. He'd always thought he'd be the one to solve that particular mystery, and it saddened him to hear Inès had got to it first. However, if there was someone who was likely to be determined and well-read enough to find out something like that, then it was his friend.
"M.N. didn't stand for Madame Nuit," Inès explained to the group. "Well, not exactly. It was a clue as to who she really is. And if we can find out who she is, we're closer to finding out her reasons. M.N. stands for Melissa Neri. That's who she is."
Filibert rubbed his eyes. "I've heard this name before, I just can't remember where."
"I know!" Gerard lit up. "Professor Ardouin mentioned her. Grand-daughter of a certain Auror who perfectioned some spells. As to her motives..."
"I've thought about it, well, really, I stayed up all night to think about it," Inès said sheepishly. "I think it must have been because her grandfather and father were Aurors, but she was not."
"No," Anatole became really pale, because, if anything, those had been the motives of his own sister. "No, she was an Auror. That's how she killed the other seven. As to her reasons... it must be something similar."
"How are you so sure?" Filibert asked.
"Because Adele, my sister, joined her cause for a reason just like that," he replied sternly. "My father was backwards on a lot of things. Is – I mean. I just haven't seen him recently, which is proof of the fact he hasn't changed."
"I'm sorry," Filibert said.
"If the reason is close enough, maybe Melissa found a way to become an Auror later in life," Gerard hazarded a guess. "But wasn't accepted into Auror Training. We should browse the files of the school, and see if a certain Melissa Neri has studied here."
"Those are in a room that's only for Professors to enter," Inès pointed out.
"It's not like we haven't broken any rules before," Filibert replied cheerfully. "We just need to find the right time and place."
"The right time would be now," Gerard said. "As for the place... do you happen to know where this room is, Inès?"
Inès obviously knew where the room was. Not that any of them had ever had any doubts. If someone could have paid attention to something like that, it was her.
"So," Anatole tried to strike up a conversation. Gerard felt a little uneasy. "Does it answer any of your questions? Knowing that your father knew who Madame Nuit was, and asked you to look for her?"
Gerard had actually been feeling very sad, because he knew that not even something like that was bringing him closer to solving the mystery of his parents' death. He wished Anatole hadn't asked, because he didn't feel like saying it aloud.
He bowed his head, and realized the truth would have to come out sooner or later.
"Not really," he admitted, not doing anything to keep his worst moods at bay. If the prefect knew him like he thought he did, he surely must have expected him to become desperate after hearing something like this. "For my whole life, I thought I'd show my grandparents that I'm worthy. That I was my mother and father's son, and I told myself I would be smart enough to understand what my father meant. But now Inès came up with a solution before I did, and I've been racking my brains to understand why it matters who Madame Nuit was before, but nothing comes to mind."
"Of course, you can't be expected to realize it all on your own," Filibert, who had heard the conversation, said helpfully. "That's what friends are for. I'm betting your parents knew you'd find many friends at this school, and that we'd unravel the mystery together."
Gerard had always been a very independent person, and thus had never thought of it that way. "Well," he had to admit, begrudgingly. "It could be."
To tell the truth, what he really couldn't understand was how he had lived so far, thinking the whole weight of the world was on his shoulders and that he had something to prove to his grandparents.
"Besides," Anatole added quietly. "You've just heard the news of Melissa Neri. We must investigate the matter further before we come to any conclusion. But if I were you, I wouldn't throw my life away for revenge. It's not worth it."
Gerard's ears went pink. Why did Anatole always say the wrong thing? Did the prefect have any shame at all, talking to his peers like that?
"I'm not the one throwing my life away," Gerard said. He'd never learnt, sadly, to react with kindness to what he took as an offense. He had no trouble going as low as the person who offended him, if not lower.
Anatole understood it must have had something to do with the secrets he kept, and stiffened. He walked a few steps away from Gerard.
The old Gerard would have thought, 'Good. He offended me and I offended him, now we're even.' However, for some reason he couldn't quite place, the new Gerard didn't feel proud at all of his remark.
He actually felt rather ashamed.
They finally reached the room where the Professors kept the files.
Filibert was given the job of browsing through them. He declared, unhappily, "I've looked through them for the past half hour or so. But the school is pretty recent, all things considered, and the Aurors in training have always been few in numbers. I just can't find a certain Melissa Neri."
"So," Inès bit her lip. "Madame Nuit has not studied here. Was she even an Auror?"
"Is she even Madame Nuit? Maybe the initials were a coincidence," Gerard pointed out. If his life mission went back to the sole purpose of killing the Madame without having to uncover her identity, he would have felt much more comfortable.
Anatole's words re-played in his head. Was it possible that the prefect wanted to look out for him? Was it possible that what he'd meant all along was that Gerard wasn't only his parents' heir, and the person who survived an Avada Kedavra? That he was more than the boy with the white streak in his hair that matched Madame Nuit's? Not even Gerard himself had thought of what he would be without all of those things.
His grandparents had made it clear more than once. He was a failure even with all of these things considered. Just what would he be, if those things couldn't define him anymore?
But was it possible that Anatole didn't care of how chivalrous, or special, or Chosen, Gerard was, and had simply asked him to stay alive? The mere thought made Gerard's insides turn in his stomach. It was a feeling he wasn't used to.
"No," Inès said, a little angry. She shoved a book in Gerard's face, where a portrait of Melissa was taken. "She looks exactly like the Madame Nuit we've all seen."
"But why don't everyone connect their identities?" Filibert wondered, in despair.
"I might have understood the reason," Gerard said, rather excited that he was solving part of the mystery on his own. Anatole couldn't help but shoot him a surprised and admired look, but then he averted his eyes just as quickly.
"It's just theoretical," Gerard continued, trying not to drown in embarrassment because of Anatole. "But think about it. If Melissa hasn't studied as an Auror, then not one of our Professors was acquainted with her."
"Do you think Jean Baptiste is old enough to have studied with her?" Inès asked. "Because Tristram couldn't have been a student. He's the son of Headmaster Cailloux, who personally trained him."
"How do you know so much?" Filibert asked. He was a little flushed in the face, probably thinking about the sad and handsome Professor.
"It's just common knowledge."
"Well, someone would have already found her in the archives," Gerard explained patiently. He couldn't believe he was explaining something to Inès. "There must be less than one hundred names and pictures there, do you really think Filibert is the first to check?"
"But I seem to recall that my father was under the impression Madame was an Auror, a Queen's Guard," Anatole pointed out. "Every time he told us the story. I just remembered now."
"It doesn't matter," Gerard was feeling ecstatic now. "It doesn't disprove my theory. I, too, was under the impression that she was a Queen's Guard. In my opinion, she skipped Auror Training. She must have joined the Guards later, being noticed because of her bravery. That must be how she was one of them, but she's never been a student."
"And coming from the country, where she'd always lived in her parents' house, alone," Anatole added calmly. "She didn't know anyone very well in Paris, and so no one could expect such an action from her. Everyone who knew her has died. The others probably didn't even know her name."
"Yes, exactly," Gerard exclaimed. "This was my theory."
"I wasn't stealing it from you, I'd just assumed this was where your theory would go," Anatole said. He didn't look guilty. "And it makes sense. You're probably right, Gerard."
"I most certainly am," Gerard argued.
"Fine, if you are..." Anatole started saying.
"I am."
"Fine," Anatole looked very close to finally losing his patience. "You're right, Gerard, and now we must move on to understand why Madame Nuit would desire a life like this. Arrived in the capital and admired for her bravery and skill, she joined the Queen's Guards and made her dream come true. Only, a few months later, to slaughter the other seven Aurors and the Queen and then be defeated by our new Queen, Sylvaine LaRousse."
"Well," Gerard pointed out. "She didn't ask to be defeated, you know."
"You know what I mean," Anatole huffed. "Why? WHY did she kill all those people??!"
Anatole was starting to become scary, in one of the worst of his mood swings, and Gerard wished, a little too late, he hadn't provoked him. However, provoking the older student was much too fun.
"We'll never know if she wanted to kill even more of them," Inès finally said. "Because not being able to kill Gerard slowed her down and made her weak. It was how she was captured. But I understand where Anatole is coming from. Is it likely that Melissa Neri had shown up in town harboring the desire to kill the other Guards, out of revenge she couldn't study with them? Once she got what she came for, what was the use in killing them all?"
"We need to understand what her motives were," Filibert pointed out. "For example -- did she want to become the new Queen?"
Gerard couldn't help but laugh bitterly. "Understand her? To understand is to forgive. Blaise Pascal said that. I don't want to forgive her, to take a look inside her head and see for myself where she was coming from."
"I thought you wanted to unravel the mystery of your parents' death," Anatole pointed out.
"I never thought I'd come this close, and now I understand I'm not what my grandparents picked out for me. I'm not a good, forgiving little boy, every bit as wise as Mom and Dad were. They warned me, Anatole. They knew who Melissa was, what she wanted, and they stalled. And she killed them, because they were too good. And she'd almost killed me. So much for parenting! I won't be like them. I will kill her, no questions asked."
Anatole became very pale. "If you're being like that, Gerard, then I'm afraid I have to stop talking to you. We can't be friends."
"Says the boy who was weak enough to fail Cursing her sister, and now Madame's back, and ready to kill us all. Aided by your sister."
"If you had anyone who shared your blood left in this world, you'd know why I hesitated," Anatole replied.
Gerard wanted to say he still had his grandparents, but what would be the use? The idea of how they'd treated him still stung too much.
And Anatole had already left the room.