Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Frustratingly, I didn’t even remember being someone. Someone that was not this ‘Zoé’ everyone kept calling me. I had no memories of any me before this one. Still, I had knowledge of hundreds of books, games and stories of all kinds. From that knowledge I could guess at my own situation.

Reïncarnation.

On my third birthday, I suddenly woke up with fragments of knowledge I should never have had. A small blessing was that this body could not yet concentrate on one emotion for too long. This kept me from panicking, but it also kept me listless. What in the world could I do with this knowledge? Annoy my already irritable mother?

I assumed she was my mother. We didn’t interact much, but she shared my blonde hair and was the only other person that wasn’t a servant. She was always busy, always ordering others around. The person on the phone, my nannies, the housekeepers, me, all in the same breath. It was impressive in a way.

Nothing was ever good enough. But her opinion might as well have been royal decree because the hour she demanded it a handful of assistants arrived. Each outfitted with clipboards and ideas on fashion.

One by one they attempted to impress her. She remained unimpressed. One young man with an ascot went for a lasting impression by suggesting yellow was last season.

This had been the wrong thing to tell my mother. She looked like he had just tried to guess her age at twice the actual number. “Last season?!” She shrieked: “Who do you think you are?! You incompetent mistake! You’re fired! Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.”

I recognised that catch-phrase! That was Chloé Bourgeois’ catchphrase from Miraculous Ladybug. The one that she copied from her mother. Her mother who had a bad habit of firing people over nothing. Suddenly everything clicked and I recognised Audrey Bourgeois.

“Out! All of you!” Audrey’s voice pulled me back in, stalking off and fuming to herself. Sheepishly the assistants made for the door. This left me with my nanny, who knelt down beside me and, with a gentle smile, asked: “Is everything alright, Zoé?”

Zoé.

I was Zoé. Audrey’s daughter Zoé. Chloe’s half-sister Zoé. I was a character in the show. Not only did I have knowledge I couldn’t have, I had knowledge about this world as a cartoon. But the Zoé in the cartoon wasn’t a toddler. She was a teenager. Did this mean the events I knew were going to happen when Zoé, when I, was older? Years in the future? My mind was reeling, but my nanny was waiting for an answer.

“Yes,” I said in a small voice.

==========

Marinette and Adrien got superpowers from magical jewellery. They would fight Hawkmoth, secretly Adrien’s father, who used his own magical jewellery to cause chaos in Paris. The main issue facing the heroes was that they didn’t know who the villain was. But I did know. I could tell them. Even if all I did was tell Marinette that Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth, that would help all of Paris, wouldn’t it? I could meet Ladybug. I could help Ladybug.

It would be a goal to work toward. A far-off goal I had no idea how to reach but a goal. I wasn’t just lost anymore, reborn who knows where. I still didn’t know anything about me, but I had a reason to do more than just be.

==========

I simply could not connect to Audrey. I like to think I tried. She sure hadn’t. If she came home before my bedtime her eyes would linger on me, as if she’d forgotten I even existed. Only when I complimented her fashion choices I wasn’t immediately redirected to a servant. Instead, she would mention the material, designer or correct me on the proper name of the article of clothing. Maybe I should have expected no differently. Chloé never managed to make a connection after all, and she had been trying for more than a decade by the start of the show.

Chloé.

Audrey might have been a dead end, but Chloé wouldn’t be. Even in the show she teetered on the path of acceptable behaviour. I wasn’t sure how old she would be now but judging by myself she would still have to have been a child. I had no way of reaching her, but Audrey must have a way of reaching Chloé’s father. If I could get to Chloé before Audrey ruined her, she could still become a decent person. That was going to be my step one.

==========

One morning, nanny in tow, I managed to find my way to Audrey. She was doing her make-up while wearing an earpiece connected to a cell phone. That meant she wouldn’t leave for a while yet. I really hated waiting. It may have been because in my 3 spoiled years of existence I had never needed to wait for the entirety of a short phone call. But hard as it was to get a word in normally, it would be impossible when she was ranting.

“Chloé.” I tried after she had finally hung up.

“What?” She was surprised I was even here. Then she looked at my nanny: “Get her what she needs.” And just like that, the conversation was over. This was bad.

“Is Chloé in Paris?” I tried again before I was led away.

“I think she is asking after your other daughter, ma’am.” My nanny helpfully replied. “Are you?” she asked, turning to me with a smile. I didn’t even know her name. I couldn’t keep track when Audrey kept firing them.

“Yes!” I nodded happily: “Sister Chloé.”

“Why do you even care? You’ve never met her.” Audrey unbottled her mascara.

“I want to talk to Chloé.” I insisted. Being limited to a toddler’s vocabulary didn’t do me any favours.

“Chloe speaks French.” She was clearly running out of patience: “Do you speak French?”

She got me there, but I couldn’t just admit defeat: “I want to speak French.” I barely managed.

“Fine, get her French lessons.” She fiddled with the earpiece hooked into her phone.

“Are you sure ma’am? Zoé is only three years old.” The nanny countered.

No! If she talked Audrey out of it, she would push back any semblance of a plan I had. Luckily, Audrey had already lost all interest in me and was arguing into the phone again.

This was a big victory, getting anything at all, even if it may not have seemed as much. I had fumbled, asking to meet Chloé before I spoke French. Yet, her not knowing how to treat children worked in my favour. I got French lessons.

==========

French was hard.

I would hate to have to learn a second language with the understanding of an actual toddler. Including French I had quite a few lessons, but I didn’t mind. Lessons were more interesting than ‘age-appropriate’ toys. I was even getting better at writing, just working a pen wasn’t an ordeal anymore.

It would take a while, but I could do this.

Chapter Text

“It’s summer, right?” I was stood on a stepping stool and made to try on wintery outfits. I felt like a doll. It bothered me less than I thought it would. I was intrigued, this was the most time I had ever spent with Audrey, who was uncharacteristically home. She was giving me, or more accurately my outfit, more attention than ever before.

She looked at me in the mirror, surprised I would question her. “We’re going to Austria,” Audrey said as if I should know better, going back to judging her own outfit.

“What for?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes at that and tossed her scarf, so it littered the floor between fur-lined coats and warm boots: “This ski holiday is an important social event. We need to remind people who the Bourgeois are.”

She sounded like some specific people needed this reminder. What did they do to run afoul of her? Maybe someone had gossiped or just sneezed in her general presence. Whatever it was, it had been enough for her to get into a mood over. Enough to cause the Bourgeois name to be defended. Wait... the Bourgeois name? That meant...

“Chloé too?” I was surprised at how excited I sounded.

“Who?” She tossed another flashy scarf.

“My sister. André’s daughter.” I said through gritted teeth. It would not help to get snippy with this woman.

She broke away from the mirror and I flinched.

“Oh, her.” she said turning back. I let out a breath, she had just forgotten Chloé existed again. “Obviously, Zoé will be there.”

This meant I was really going to meet her. This was the first mayor character of the series. One I may even have a positive influence on.

==========

Shortly after my fourth birthday we entered the holiday resort.

I was a ball of energy and ran off to look for Chloé as soon as Audrey started yelling at the poor guy manning the desk to check us in. It would be better to introduce myself before Audrey had a chance to.

It was only when I passed the glass back door for the second time that I recognised André talking to someone outside. Standing next to him was a very bored-looking 6-year-old. She didn’t engage with anyone, not even with the other children. Did she dislike others?

“Hi!” I approached her, nearly buzzing from excitement.

She turned and looked me over. She looked tense: “Hello.” She answered in French.

How did I forget so quickly? This explained why she was sticking to her dad instead of mingling. I took a breath to resettle my thoughts and joined her in French: “Your coat is super pretty.”

She looked relieved, no doubt because I spoke French: “Of course it is. It’s an Agreste.” She struck a pose.

“There is so much snow.” I gestured around: “It’s so cool.”

“I guess,” Chloé looked around: “But there’s too much of it. What would I even do with it?”

She was willing to engage, that was great news. “Whatever we want! Over there.” I moved to where the snow hadn’t been shovelled. It reached higher than me. I put my hood up and turned toward Chloé: “push!”

“What?” Chloé seemed genuinely confused.

“Chloé, push!” I reached for her with both hands and patted my chest. I really hoped this gesture could cross the language barrier where my limited French couldn’t.

She looked unsure, like she wanted to say something, and for a moment I thought she wouldn’t come over, but André had taken notice. He put a hand on her shoulder and knelt down.

“Don’t you want to play your new friend’s game?” he asked his daughter. She looked up at him and he gave her an encouraging smile: “Go on.”

She made up her mind and walked over to me, my arms still spread. Hesitantly, she put her hand on my chest and pushed until I fell backwards.

I barely sunk into the snow, which I attributed to my tiny body, but couldn’t help but giggle. It was a struggle to get upright again as I couldn’t get a grip on the snow. That’s when I saw Chloé’s gloved hand reaching out to me. She was still sceptical, but I gladly took her offer.

As soon as I was out, my giggle transformed into a hearty laugh. A moment later she joined me. The rest of the game consisted of her pushing me in over and over again and at one point she wanted to be pushed in herself. I couldn’t believe I was bonding with the Chloé Bourgeois.

==========

“My apologies, sweetheart, but that was a very important conversation.” André interrupted us as we were getting tired. “But I saw you were having fun with your new friend. Why don’t you introduce us?”

Chloé opened her mouth but when she looked at me, we both realised I had never introduced myself. Had she? Had I called her name without ever being told it?

I put on my best smile and held out my hand to André: “I’m Zoé.”

I saw a flash of emotion cross his face. He must have known who I was by my name and hair colour. Before I could dwell on that he had settled into his politician’s smile: “Nice to meet you, Zoé. I’m André, Chloé’s father. I’m glad you-”

“Mother!”

Both of our heads snapped in Chloé’s direction and, like she said, Audrey Bourgeois was stalking her way over to us. The crowd parted faster than if she smelled of rotten fish.

“Andy, lovely to see you” She cheek kissed André.

“The pleasure is all mine, Darling.” He sounded genuine. Maybe love really is blind. Or masochistic. Then he gestured to Chloé, star-struck by her mother, and me, far less so. ”Chloé and I just met Z-“

“Oh, right.” Audrey said, clearly annoyed by having the conversation pivoting away from herself. Then she pointed to Chloé. “This is Zari, my daughter. Do try to get along.”

She turned to Chloé fully and spoke in English while gesturing to me: “This is the sister you so desperately wanted to meet. Just don’t embarrass me, okay?” Then she turned and left. André immediately followed her, barely able to get a word in between her complaints about the resort’s service.

“She talked to me.” Chloé said dreamily and I couldn’t find it in me to correct her.

Chapter Text

“What’s a ‘golden child’?”

“What?” I yawned into the phone. Bedtime had been hours ago.

We had managed to keep contact in the eight months since we met at the resort and both being rich, we irresponsibly had cell phones. It was nice, having a constant in my life who was, well, nice. I had realised I had seen her less as a person and more as a pet project at first, but now I loved just talking to her like a sister. Maybe I was growing as a person too. The only downside to all this was that Chloé didn’t understand time zones.

“Sometimes people talk. They’ll say: ‘Zoé, the golden child’.”

“It’s...” Would she feel bad if I told her? My advantages were incredibly unique; it would be unfair to let her worry over not comparing to me: “... someone who’s good at a lot of things. I’m a golden child because I’m lucky: I learn quickly, I’m rich and I have you as a sister.”

I heard her beam at that: “You are lucky to be my sister... and maybe I’m lucky too.” She was so cute.

“They do say I should be proud to have a sister that can do anything.” Chloé mused.

I yawned again. A sister could do anything but stay awake. This body needed its rest and I had already fallen asleep during these late-night conversations before. “I want to talk more, but I am really sleepy, so I am going to go.”

“Oh.” The disappointment was audible, and I wanted to go back on my words. “Your bedtime is so early. I’m the big sister so my bedtime is later.” I could hear the pride in those words.

“Oh.” She repeated, this time more enthusiastic: “Adrien said he wants to meet you.”

“A-Adrien?” The Adrien? I shot up. I knew he was friends with Chloé, but the prospect of meeting him still felt wild to me.

“I told you about him.” She said through a pout: “Adrien’s my friend.”

“No, I know.” I hastily replied: “I just... never imagined... he would want to meet me.”

“Pfft. Of course he wants to meet you. You’re my sister.” Then she switched to a whisper: “Jean-Anton is coming. Gotta go.” And just like that, she was gone.

I put my phone on my bedside table. Chloé was going to introduce me to Adrien. I knew we would meet eventually, but suddenly it felt real.

Great, now I was wide awake.

==========

“They’ll be here very soon, Chloé.” Daddy smiled at me and pointed at my colouring book: “Why don’t you play a bit more until they arrive?”

How could I colour now? Mommy and Zoé were coming to visit! Everyone said Zoé was a golden child because Zoé was good at everything. And Zoé lives with mommy. If I lived with mommy, I would be good at everything too.

I am good at things, but I’m not good at every thing. I tried really hard at drawing and now I am better at drawing than Sabrina and Adrien. So, when Zoé comes we’re going to draw, and I am going to be the bestest at drawing. Then Zoé will say I’m the bestest at drawing and then mommy will say I am the bestest at drawing. Then I will be the bestest older sister. Like on TV! Then mommy and Zoé will move to Paris because I’m so good at drawing.

The helicopter appeared above the buildings. Daddy held on to me so I didn’t run at it until it was safely on the ground and the door opened.

“...never flown before. You’re fired!” Mommy stepped out of the helicopter and looked as important as she always did.

“Mommy!” I ran to her and gave her legs a big hug.

“Don’t dirty this dress, Claudette. It’s Cashmere.”

“Hey Chloé.” A voice came from the helicopter.

“Zoe!” We hugged. Zoé’s hug was warmer than mommy’s hug.

==========

Chloé had wanted to spend some time with Audrey, who couldn’t spare a moment for her own daughter. This left the two of us to ourselves, which I much preferred. Luckily, Chloé was excited to see me too. It meant she got to play at being the older sister.

She had really gotten into drawing, which was adorable. Everything she did was adorable, even if she was a tad brattier to the staff than I’d like.

I had to stop myself from just staring at her as she drew, all focused, hands stained with crayon, tongue sticking out of her mouth.

What would I even draw?

Chloé had placed her teddy bear on the table in front of us... Still-life it is.

==========

I had wanted to play with mommy. But she and daddy were important, and they had to do important things. So, I played with Zoé instead. That was good. Now I could show Zoé I was the bestest at drawing.

It took a long time, but I made a good drawing. Me, Zoé, mommy and daddy all as a happy family at the hotel. I proudly showed it to Zoé.

“Look, Zoé.” I held it up for her to see.

“Did you really make that? That’s amazing!” Zoé was impressed. This was the bestest drawing by the bestest drawer after all. “It’s a happy little family!”

“It’s me and you and mommy and daddy. You can have it if you want.”

“Really? Thank you, Chloé.” Zoé gave me a hug. Zoé is good at hugs.

This was probably the bestest drawing Zoé had ever seen. We were both proud of how good I am.

When she put my drawing in her suitcase I looked at what she had drawn.

…

Zoé’s drawing was better than my drawing.

In the drawing Mr. Cuddly was sitting on the table. Just like he was for real. Daddy and Jean-Martin often asked what I had drawn, but no-one would have needed to ask what Zoé had drawn. Zoé’s drawing was even better than those of the older kids in school. Maybe Zoé was the bestest at drawing. Zoé was a golden child.

I didn’t like that Zoé was good at everything anymore.

==========

I really had to work on my technique. My lines were wonky, and my perspective was off. I supposed I could work on it whenever a nanny insisted I get away from my laptop.

“Look, Zoé.” Chloé suddenly piped up.

She was holding up her drawing for me to see. She gave me a big smile, all nervous, waiting for my opinion. She was almost too cute.

“Did you really make that? That’s amazing.” She had drawn 4 figures next to a building. Must have been us, André and Audrey. Her ideal little family. “It’s a happy little family!”

“It’s me and you and mommy and daddy. You can have it if you want.”

“Of course I do. Thank you, Chloé.”

Had she drawn this for me? I hugged her and put the drawing in my suitcase, taking care it wouldn’t wrinkle. When I turned back Chloé was looking over at my drawing.

“I tried to draw your Mr. Cuddly.”

“Hmm.”

“Since you gave me your drawing, I’ll give you mine. If you want, of course.”

“Oh, thanks.”

I couldn’t read her expression. Maybe she was only interested in such things if she was the artist.

“Do you want to draw some more?” I offered.

“No.” Her answer was immediate.

“I want to do something else, like...” She searched her room for activities until she settled on a picture on a cabinet: “...Adrien. I want to go to Adrien.”

Chapter Text

One near-tantrum resulted in a phone call, which resulted in a short car ride to a very fancy mansion. Chloé was an expert at manipulating her father even at 6 years old. From our short conversation on the drive over she made it clear that there was nothing wrong with manipulating him like that. Of all the things Audrey could have taught her...

When we stepped out of the car we were greeted by a little boy, who immediately ran over to hug Chloé. I froze upon seeing them exchange greetings, how could I not? Meeting Chloé had been a big deal, but this. This was Chat Noir. Baby Chat Noir even. My mind was still resetting when he turned towards me.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Adrien Agreste” he squeaked at me and held up a hand for me to shake: “You must be Zoé, Chloé told me a lot about you.”

I had to take a deep breath to not let out a fangirl squeal then and there.

I took his hand: “Yes, I’m Zoé Lee, Chloé’s sister. I’ve heard a lot about you too.”

So much more than you could ever imagine.

“Aren’t you three precious.” A voice sounded and we turned to see a beautiful woman: “I’m Émilie, Adrien’s mother.”

And she was.

She wasn’t in a coma. It felt weird, having a source of warmth in the Agreste mansion. I managed to greet her even though my mind was racing.

==========

Spending time at the Agreste mansion was fun. Émilie settled us in with lemonade and joined us for a game of cards. She seemed to love spending time with Adrien even more than I liked being with Chloé.

The only downside was her persistent cough. She told us it was nothing to worry about, but I knew better. I was filled with dread every time I heard that cough. It must have shown, as she reassured me every time.

Curing Émilie could be a way of preventing the events of the show, but Gabriel doesn’t fix the peacock for several seasons. That would be years after this became irreversible. Even now she must be too far gone for the peacock and butterfly miraculous, otherwise they would have fixed it already. They had enough wealth and fame to meet with the American heroes, so that option was out the window too.

Was Hawkmoth doomed to terrorise Paris? For all my foreknowledge I couldn’t think of anything that could help. Could I do no more but be there for Adrien when she disappears?

==========

“I’m going to start counting now.” Émilie laughed at us.

“10~”

We squealed with excitement as we turned and ran out of the room. Audrey would never allow us to play hide-and-go-seek inside her mansion. As I stepped out of the dining hall it hit home how I was almost half the other two’s age. They were already running up the stairs.

“9~”

I caught myself having fun as I reached the stairs, hitting home that between these memeries and Audrey I was still a small child. The others had reached the landing and split there. Adrien went left to his room, Chloé right, both possibly more excited than I was.

“8~”

As I started up the stairs a door opened to my left. I glanced over the railing and my blood ran cold. Gabriel Agreste exited his study.

Here was Hawkmoth, one of the show’s most powerful characters and I was just a 4-year-old toddling up the stairs. I wasn’t ready yet.

“7~”

I panicked as he noticed me and came in my direction, stopping short just in front of me. Towering over my form despite me being several steps higher up. His expression frighteningly neutral, completely unreadable.

“6~”

He couldn’t know what I was up to, could he? He couldn’t read minds. But he had the butterfly miraculous. It wasn’t unthinkable that he could give himself mind-reading powers without changing his appearance. Had I lost already? Would he use my memories to get to Marinette and Adrien on their first day as heroes? Before that?

“5~”

He straightened his back, looking even more imposing.

“H-hello.” I managed. I needed to act natural. I needed to slow my breathing. How could I defend myself in this position? I had no weapons on hand, I couldn’t overpower him and If I ran he would catch up to me in moments.

“4~”
“Hello,” he replied stiffly. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Gabriel Agreste... I live here.” Then he looked away awkwardly and I relaxed the death grip I had on the banister.

This wasn’t Hawkmoth. Not yet. This was just Gabriel Agreste. Just a billionaire, world-renowned fashion designer. Who, apparently, didn’t know how to act around children.

“3~”

“I’m Zoé Lee. Chloé’s sister. I... live in America. Uhm, nice to meet you.”

“Ah, Audrey’s... second daughter. Likewise.”

‘Second daughter’? Nice save there, Gabriel.

“2~”

He looked around and asked: “Why are you alone? I was under the impression you were here to play with my son.”

It didn’t sound accusatory, but awkwardly conversationally. I was floored he would make the effort. I realised then I had only known Gabriel after his world fell through.

“We’re playing hide-and-go-seek. Émilie’s counting.” I pointed towards the open dining room door.

“1~”

“Ah, well. I’ll let you get back to it then. My apologies for interrupting. I’ll... talk to Émilie and make sure you’re given extra time.” He gave me a nod and strode towards the dining room.

“Thank you.”

“0. Here I come~”

I watched him go. In that moment he seemed far from a villain to me. Just a regular, emotionally constipated businessman. Love lost really changes a person.

Right, I had better ‘get back to it’ as Gabriel had put it and started up the stairs again.

“Gabe! I see you’ve torn yourself away from that book.”

Émilie sounded genuinely happy to see him. I could see why Gabr-

That book? As in that book? I stopped again as my head whipped towards the door of Gabriel’s study. Was Gabriel working on that book right now? I looked back to the dining room. I couldn’t see them from here. I was alone in the hallway, Gabriel hadn’t locked his study and I had free roam of the house.

==========

The door closed with a soft click. The room looked like I remembered; just less high-tech. Gabriel must decide to upgrade sometime in the next couple years. The portrait of Émilie wasn’t there. In its stead, there was one of their whole family hung behind a fancy wooden desk I didn’t recognise. That was new. Or old in this case.

I made my way toward it. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up, but I couldn’t help myself. Hawkmoth would be too careful to just leave something like this out. It would be in the safe, requiring a code I didn’t know. But when I rounded the desk, I saw a big, brown book lying there. Its cover bore a circle with an intricate, eastern pattern. My breath quickened as I climbed the chair and with a shaky hand I reached out and opened it.

An illustration of a person dressed in a reddish-brown stared back at me. On the opposite page were drawings of a hatpin and a lasso. I flipped to a random page and saw a similar set of illustrations with a black-and-white theme. Once more and this time the hero was in white and blue. Just as I was about to flip another page, I saw that the items depicted with this person were an umbrella and a pocket watch. Unmistakably the rabbit miraculous.

There was no more doubt in my mind. I had found the grimoire. It really had been that easy. But now what? There was no way I could get it out. I could barely lift the thing. What would Ladybug do?

...

Master Fu had made a digital copy! I grabbed my cell phone and started taking pictures.

==========

The grimoire was thick, there were a lot more miraculous than I had initially thought. They did mention Master Fu’s box was only one of many. I needed to work fast and had no doubt some of my pictures were going to turn out blurry, but right now anything I could get was welcome.

“...prefer if you spent more time with Adrien.” Émilie sounded muffled.

“But we can’t give up.” Gabriel opened the door: “The cure must be in there somewhere.”

I ducked down. I pocketed my phone and slowly slipped out of the chair and under the desk.

“I’m not giving up, Gabe. I’m prioritizing the present and Adrien, prioritizing us.”

“This is prioritizing us. With the right spell everything will be alright.”

I could hear Émilie’s footsteps coming closer and her bottom half came into view as she passed the desk. I made myself as small as possible as she looked up at their portrait.

“I know you would bend heaven and earth for my sake, but Adrien needs a father. We have time, Gabe. We need to enjoy it.”

At this she turned around.

Gabriel’s legs came into view next. “Nathalie has gone back with a team of archaeologists. She’ll find a clue as to the magic’s origins and-“

Émilie cut him off with a sharp raise of her arm. Then she turned back around to move the portrait and open the safe. After a moment of rummaging she closed it back up.

“You’re not putting it on, are you? It’s broken. It’s the very reason you’re in this state.”
Was he talking about the peacock miraculous? Was she wearing it now? I didn’t dare look for fear of being found.

“It appears we missed a little detail. My fault really. It was my idea after all.”

Émilie moved to stand next to the desk and put her hand on the edge, fingers just wrapping around it where I could see them.

“Gotcha!” her face popped into view.

Chapter Text

“Oh sweetheart. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spook you this hard.” Emilie reassured me, gently patting my head next to where I had bumped it in surprise.

She had picked me up from underneath the desk and put me in the chair beside it.

“Does it hurt?” she asked with genuine concern.

“It doesn’t.” I answered carefully, earning me a smile.

“Our brave little Zoé. Super smart and super tough.”

Gabriël behind her looked a lot more stressed at seeing me here than his wife did. He had a good reason to, of course.

“How much did you hear?” He demanded with a familiar neutrality.

“Gabe, she was in here before us. She heard everything.” Emilie scolded him. “She’s even seen the book. Can you lock the door?”

Gabriël did as he was asked and my heart sank.

“You’re not in trouble, darling. It’s our fault for talking about secrets in a house where children are hiding.”

She moved the grimoire closer to the edge of the desk so I had a better view and started to turn its pages. But despite Emilie willingly showing me the book I couldn’t help but be distracted. The hand around my shoulder was holding the miraculous of the butterfly.

“This is a very old book about magic. Like some of the heroes in New York. That is what Gabriël and I were talking about just now.”

I was allowed to be part of this conversation. I didn’t know why, but I had to get all I could out of it. First, to naturally learn the information they didn’t know I already had.

“Gabriël warned you against putting on something broken. Did he mean that pin?”

She smiled at that: “Oh Gabe, isn’t she even more clever than Audrey said?”

That explained why I was promoted from skeleton in the closet to open secret. Audrey couldn’t resist a boast.

“Very close Zoé. I am sick because the peacock miraculous is broken.”

Then she stopped leafing through the book.

“Look. It’s this pin.” Emilie pointed towards the drawing: “This book tells you all about the miraculous, magical jewellery that turn people like Gabriël and me into heroes.“

Gabriël a hero? Even when I looked over at him, the best I could say was that he wasn’t a villain right now.

“Emilie!” He tried to intervene.

“Trust me, Gabe.” Emilie reassured him and he relented. His devotion hadn’t changed much between the series and this reality.

“Can’t you heal yourself with this brooch?” They must have tried, right?

At this she looked pained and, after a moment, revealed a necklace hidden beneath her shirt’s collar. “Gabriël made this for me. It helps, but it doesn’t fully solve the problem.” The look on Gabriël’s face confirmed her words.

“Do you want to see the magic of the butterfly in action?” She asked me with a smile.

How could I possibly refuse? To be able to see, not just magic, but one of the show’s most important miraculous live. “Yes, please!”

She walked over to Gabriël and started to fasten the brooch.

“Emilie, I don’t-” but Emilie cut off his protest by whispering something in his ear and after hesitating for a moment he relented.

As she put it on the wings collapsed into a small purple gem and a shiny ball of light shot out to coalesce into an adorable purple sprite. Nooroo was surprised to see me, but he happily waved at me. Him looking happy was also unexpected, I returned his wave.

Gabriël found his voice again. “This is Nooroo. He is the one that gives the brooch it’s powers. Nooroo, light wings rise.”

Another flash of light. And unmistakably I was now face to face with Hawkmoth. I nearly fell off the chair trying to back away but was caught by Emilie. “It’s okay. It’s still Gabriël, he just looks different.”

It took willpower not to run away. I had to keep telling myself that this wasn’t the man that terrorized all of Paris... yet.

Gabriël waited until I had calmed down before he spoke up. “I can give other people superpowers. It’s quite the formidable gift.” He sounded melancholic.

Emilie presented her bracelet and he tapped it with the tip of his cane. He looked content. “Brighten her heart.”

For a moment I saw the purple mask before black bubbles overtook her, then disappear again to show Emilie changed.

I didn’t have to feign excitement. Emilie’s new gown made her look like a fairy, including a pair of huge butterfly wings and matching wand. She clearly enjoyed the attention as she gave a little spin.

“This isn’t even the best part.” She winked at me. Then, with a flick of her wand she pulled something out of the Aether. It was a small, black, plated band looping in on itself. But before I could get a good look she started coughing. Hawkmoth rushed over to catch her as she nearly doubled over.

“Maybe this was a bad idea.” Gabriël admonished her.

“I’m fine, Gabe. Apologies for the scare.”

She turned back to me and offered me the band: “Why don’t you take a look?”

I carefully reached out and accepted the artifact. The individual segments seemed to change colour depending on how they caught the light. In the centre was a circular plate as clear as glass.

“It’s a bracelet!”

“It is. And it’s for you.” She answered.

I wanted to look up at her, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the plate. It was mesmerizing, as if something was looking back at me. A calm fell over me. A calm I couldn’t fight.

“I am Secret Keeper.” Her voice sounded far away, but it echoed through my mind clearly: “To help keep our secrets I want you to forget that your new armband is magic. I want you to forget what happened after you entered this room and I want you to forget who are behind the masks. But please, always remember that you and Adrien are friends and how much fun you have together.”

Then she snapped her fingers, and everything went black.

==========

I woke up to Chloé’s voice and the unmistakable shaking of me being carried. She was talking about our time at the Agreste’s. My eyelids were heavy, but I managed to make out one of the hallways of the hotel.

“Ah, Miss Zoé. You can go back to sleep. You’ve had a long day.” Chloé’s butler smiled at me, his face just above mine. Through the fog of sleep it took me a moment to realise he was the one carrying me.

“Armand? Were we not at the Agreste’s?” I mumbled.

“You fell asleep while we were playing hide-and-seek!” Chloé piped up, all chipper. “You really are still just a little kid. I never fall asleep while playing.”

She was so proud of herself it made me smile. “You’re a cool older sister, Chloé.”

She nearly jumped from excitement at that, sprinting ahead to open the door to her room for Armand and me with the widest grin.

“Apparently Mrs. Agreste found you in her husband’s study, asleep underneath the desk during your game.” Armand stepped inside Chloé’s room and put me on Chloé’s bed. “That must mean you had a lot of fun playing today.”

“We played with cards. Then Adrien’s mom read us a fairytale. With voices!” Chloé was climbing onto the other side of the bed to lay next to me. Her hogging the conversation gave me a chance to think.

Had I gone into Gabriël’s study? I met him on the stairs. I was afraid of him for a moment.

Why? Had he been that intimidating?

I must have hidden after that. It feels so foggy. I must have been running on fumes without knowing. As I moved my arm to sit up, I noticed I was wearing a plated bracelet with black segments and a solid, greyish plate that could be silver. Where did this come from?

“It’s beautiful, Miss.” Armand saw me staring: “According to the Madame you were taken with it as soon as you saw it in the study. Please be sure to thank her for her gift when next you meet.”

Had that happened? I’m not usually all that material. Audrey lives by the idea that everything is replaceable, even people. Though as I looked at it, I was struck by how pretty it was. As if it was made just for me.

Chapter Text

Audrey decided I was ready to attend social functions. Of course she did. Why not put a 5-year-olds through that?

It allowed me to see a new, unexpected side of her. I had to admit she had a true sense of business and authority. She never backed down. She could intimidate or persuade CEOs, politicians and even heroes if she needed to.

Yes, there were heroes in the 1%. Most were easy to spot as secret identities meant they wore their full gear during these functions. Unfortunately, I couldn’t talk to them, let alone become a hero myself. I wasn’t there to interact with adults. I was there to be paraded as an asset and then connect with the other spoiled brats in a side room.

I was a good asset. I was ‘gifted’. I would bloody hope so, being reïncarnated and all. Not that they knew about that detail.

While being gifted was useful, being known as more would undoubtedly come back to bite me. So, I started failing aptitude tests on purpose after the first few. The doctor knew. The doctor also knew you can’t make a 5-year-old play ball against their will. So, my intelligence was left at a vague ‘advanced’.

As Audrey’s daughter, for a lot of children I was the one to woo. This got me involved in far more politics than anyone should. These children flocked and backstabbed like medieval nobility. Luckily, I had learned from Audrey how to demand respect.

I was invited into the nouveau riche ‘faction’ of this east-coast kindergarten kingdom. Playing rugrat turf-war was a massive headache, but I became ‘friends’ with some of the less annoying fake princes and princesses. This resulted in weekly playdates, some more bearable than others. I hated having to play these mental games. I hated even more that I got good at it.

==========

Fashionably late, early for Audrey, I found the children’s room steeped in an unusual tension. A new girl. She was close to shouting already under a passive-aggressive onslaught of mockery. I liked her willingness to stand up for herself, but it was clear she was used to a different crowd.

Greeting people was a formality. Just stepping into the room caused waves of whispers. Within the minute everyone would know I had arrived. So why no tour de force? Besides, jumping into the middle of a situation such as this one gives me control over it. Beats gossiping about someone else’s fight all night.

The crowd parted as I approached, obviously hoping for drama. The new girl noticed me too. All sound was reduced to whispers as attention focused on the two of us. I looked her over, letting the moment hang.

She was obviously uncomfortable in her fancy dress, black hair in a too tight ponytail. She towered over me, the advantage of just a couple years, looking ready to throw a punch. A large stain on her dress told me someone ‘accidentally’ spilled their drink on her. A dumb trick to force her to engage, but effective. She straightened her back, silently daring me to comment on the stain.

“I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Zoé Lee.” I attempted to defuse. “Audrey Bourgeois’ daughter.”

She made a face when I said ‘Bourgeois’. Oh, joy. Audrey’s reputation had reached her already. Still, if she were to lash out at me, I would bite back.

“Jessica Keynes.” She introduced herself after a moment.

Keynes? As in Barbara Keynes? Billionaire and CEO of the world’s foremost technological and weapons development company? It felt like there was something else I couldn’t quite remember. I caught myself before I could fiddle with my bracelet. A bad habit I was developing.

Judging by the reactions no-one had realised quite how big a fish Jessica was until now. Bigger than me. It looked like she didn’t even realise it herself. Someone was going to take advantage of that. Might as well be me.

I feigned shock. “Someone stained your lovely dress. If we hurry, we might still save it.” I offered her my hand and a kind smile.

She gave me a suspicious look, but we both knew I was a better alternative than staying.

==========

To my surprise the dress could be saved. It must have been from a more sensible material than whatever Audrey forces on me. We had made polite conversation in a side room while a maid had skilfully worked the stain.

I smiled as the maid excused herself. “No-one would have wanted to see Barbara Keynes’ daughter in a ruined dress.”

I could spin this as a favour to whatever brat had done the spilling. I immediately hated myself for falling into that Audrey-like pattern of thought so easily.

Conversation had dried up 3 times already and every time I caught myself approaching this with profit in mind. High society was more toxic than I thought.

Jessica was clever and nice enough. Street-smart, but out of her depths in this environment. I wasn’t keen on sticking my neck out for a stranger in front of this crowd, but Ladybug would. Besides, it would be nice to make friends with someone not yet ruined by these people.

But what do normal people talk about? I knew it wasn’t how much their parents made. Do I ask her about herself? She hadn’t opened up in the slightest, though. Her mother? Hotshot, ‘confirmed single’, recently adopted a poor orphan. All obvious, idle gossip or both.

“Barbara Keynes is one of the wealthiest, most powerful women in America. It would be social suicide to treat you like that if you didn’t allow it.”

It was the blandest thing I could have said, but it got her attention. Her gaze was piercing, but not unkind. She was searching for something. I couldn’t take it. I broke eye-contact. “Not that I care.”

Something to talk about…

Something to talk about…

“My sister got me into this new game recently,” I tried. Jessica wasn’t a stuck-up bitch, so maybe video games were her speed. “Do you play-?“

She laughed. It was a genuine laugh. She hadn’t even dropped her guard until now.

“You really love your sister, don’t you?”

How did she get that from a game recommendation?

“You’ve brought her up three times already,” she smirked.

I blushed at that. I looked at the maid overseeing us. She nodded holding back a smile herself. I may have needed a hobby besides fawning over Chloé. “I’m sorry, Jessica. I hadn’t realised.”

“Ugh, just ‘Jess’, alright? And if that’s what it takes for you to drop the tsundere act.” I was about to protest when she stood up to plop next to me on the sofa. “You got your phone on you? Show me a picture. I want to know what she looks like.”

I had an in with a normal person and a chance to gush over Chloé. How could I refuse? “Well, Jess. These are from when I visited Paris two months ago. Just the face she makes when concentrating is adorable.”

“The two of you are cute.” She swiped.

“Thank you.” The warmth I felt at just that comment proved I really did need another hobby.

“She’s bigger than you made her sound. Is she older than-? Wow, cool drawings, who made them?”

“Drawings?” I thought Chloé’s drawings were cool, but Jess should be less biased.

I took my phone back to look at the pictures and nearly dropped it. A hand-drawn miraculous-holder was staring back at me. But how?

==========

Here I was at my desk with photos I shouldn’t have. Luckily, Jess hadn’t known me well enough to realise I was acting off for the rest of the evening. We had left off amicably and even exchanged numbers. It had taken everything out of me to wait to check these photos until I got to Audrey’s.

There were a couple dozen photos of varying quality. But how did I get them? According to the timestamps they were made when I was in Paris… With my phone. But that was impossible. No-one but me should have had access to it. What’s more, these were definitely of the grimoire.

I felt a sudden discomfort. A coldness gripped me, and my bracelet felt itchy on my skin. Did someone know? Did I have a hidden ally?

Why give me this? Did they know about me? Did they want me to translate it?

Hawkmoth had had incredible difficulty translating it himself in the show. But I could cheat. I recall it was supposed to have been based on a combination of English, French and Chinese. That was a starting point he didn’t have. Just imagine if I could get even a partially annotated version to Ladybug…

That coldness gripped me anew.

Ladybug.

Who was Ladybug?

Why didn’t I know who she was?

I had known Ladybug’s identity before, but I didn’t now. When had I forgotten? How could I possibly forget? For the first time since I found out I was Zoé I was in panic-mode.

I searched my memories for secret identities, but I got nothing.

This was bad.

Who was Chat Noir? Hawkmoth? Mayura?

I couldn’t feel myself breathing, but could see my chest rise and fall faster than ever before.

Had Hawkmoth gotten to me? How? I stumbled away from the desk.

Hawkmoth wasn’t even supposed to be active yet!

Where had my memories gone? Would I lose more?

I saw my phone clatter to the ground. It sounded muffled, as if it happened behind glass.

Did Hawkmoth know Ladybug’s identity now?

Was there someone else I didn’t know about? What did they want? Did they give me those photos? Did they take my memories. Were there multiple people?

A sharp pain on my wrist drew me back to reality.

In my panic I had twisted Emelie’s bracelet, and my hand started to turn white. I let go.

The bracelet was unharmed, almost glowing. It must have been the lighting. At least this fiddling had stopped my panic.

I wanted to thank Emilie for the bracelet again. I already couldn’t live without it apparently.

----------

A/N: According to the official card game (which exists) Zoé's best friend back in NYC was Jessica. I thought that was funny so I kept it.

Chapter Text

Zoé was unpacking her single suitcase. It was too small to fit all I would need for a weekend away, but she somehow managed to pack her whole life in it. Then again, she was coming to live in the fashion capital. Permanently! Zoé had chosen to live with daddy and me at the hotel over an American boarding school. If only mom had come too.

“I heard you set up a charity!” Sabrina piped up.

“I did.” Zoé smiled. “I wanted to put Audrey’s money to some good. Aeon, Jess’ sister, helped me a lot. Thanks to her it might become more than a vanity project.”

We were talking about the poor? What was this? A TV-interview? Still, the way Zoé and Sabrina were talking made me feel like my stories about shopping had been less interesting.

“You’re still wearing that?” I changed the topic.

She was wearing those sneakers. The ones she had her friends sign. I wouldn’t say it to her face but there were too few names to brag over. They showed creativity, which was in, but mom had told her not to wear them. Zoé had trouble getting along with mom even though she lived with her all this time. Didn’t she know it would be much easier if she just did as mom said?

“Of course. They’re precious.”

Precious? They were cotton. Maybe she was unsure of what was in in France. Lucky for her I was an expert. Outing planned! I was a good older sister.

A knock on the open door stopped further conversation: “Are you settling in darling?”

“André, You’re a pleasant surprise.” Zoé greeted him, “Are you sure you have the time?”

“For my favourite girls, always. I brought you a little something to welcome you to your new home.”

Daddy handed her a box. Long. Flat. A necklace. “Is the room to your liking?”

“Of course, it’s amazing!” Zoé took out the necklace and admired it. “Thank you, it’s beautiful.”

It wasn’t. A heart-cut amethyst in a rose gold hanger? If she insisted on wearing it I might have to lose it for her.

“Good to hear. Now, I can’t stay long but I wanted to be the one to tell you that you’ve been accepted into François DuPont.”

Zoé was coming to François DuPont? She let out a squeal and I practically tackled her in a hug. Sabrina cheered.

“That’s not all. Next week you have a test to get into Chloé’s class.”

“Can’t you just tell them to put Zoé in my class?” I pouted.

Daddy hesitated.

I was about to pile on the pressure, but Zoé interrupted, “No, Chloé. I can get in the right way.” Then she smiled and hugged me again. “And I will! And we’ll finally be in the same class!”

I rolled my eyes, of course Zoé would want to do some dumb test.

“And… Adrien?” Zoé asked in a hopeful voice.

Daddy’s face fell and I tuned out the part about Emelie being worried about his well-being.

==========

Zoé was almost bouncing in her seat during the ride to school. I had never seen her like this, acting her age. I was excited too, but I never got to be the big sister, so I didn’t let it show. My poker face was pretty good.

“I’ll take care of you Zoé. If there’s anything you need, just ask.”

She looked straight at me, then away, then at me again and shifted in her seat. Was she… nervous? Zoé Lee, the golden child, was nervous about her first day at school?

“You said you were friends with all of your classmates…”

Had I? Poker face!

“I’m…” She looked down at her shoes covered in too few names. “… not good at making friends. I can socialize! …in high-society... Could you help me?”

Me and my stupid mouth.

“I’m not asking you to do all the work! But could you maybe… point out some people that are easy to get along with?”

Turns out there was something little miss perfect couldn’t do perfectly after all. And it had to be something I was even worse at.

“How could I refuse?”

==========

I was finally in Paris. I was finally in the same class as Chloé. And next year; the same class as Adrien!

No matter what I tried, Emilie was too protective to let him go right now. But even without him it was the class that’s important to the story because…

Damn it!

No. I couldn’t get hung up over some lost memories. That happened once, years ago. Nothing had happened since. One way or the other. I could only hope that was a good thing.

Distracting myself from those thoughts was easy because, as I stepped out of the car, I had to hold myself back. That guy doing push-ups had to be Kim! And were those Nino and Ivan listening to music? And Rose talking to Juleka and Luka? Of course! This was his last year here. They were recognisable, but different. They hadn’t fully grown into the versions that I knew.

This was too much! I wanted to just run up to them and start fangirling.

I channelled my energy into hugging Chloé, interrupting whatever she was telling Sabrina who had found us. “We’re here!”

She rolled her eyes, “It’s just school.”

“Sabrina! I know we saw each other yesterday, but it’s still exciting to see you here. Do we hug? Are we huggers?”

“I-If you want to be.” Sabrina was surprised, but happily spread her arms.

I really needed the emotional anchor, so I may have held her a tad long. Long enough for Chloé to have gotten bored as start up the stairs. That was our cue to break the hug and follow.

Mr. Damocles flagged us down to congratulate me on my score on the placement test again. He kept us talking until the bell excused us and Chloé dragged me to our new class.

Miss Bustier turned to greet us, but Chloé slammed her hand on the teacher’s desk loudly, ensuring the class’s attention. “Everyone, this is my sister Zoé!” Several students started whispering. “Disrespecting her means disrespecting the Bourgeois name! Remember that!”

This wasn’t the way I had hoped to introduce myself, but Chloé showed she cared about me. That was a win, right? I was about to introduce myself properly when someone else rushed in.

“Am I late?” The girl was doubled over and out of breath.

All attention was on her now. For better or worse I couldn’t salvage the situation. This also meant I could gawk at the newcomer without looking out of place.

She seemed fashionable, her dark hair was in a ponytail, and a nice smell was coming from the box she was holding.

Chloé scoffed from behind me. “Oh, joy. Baker girl’s here.”

Baker girl?

The girl righted herself with a bright smile that stunned me. “Hey. I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Marinette.”

She spread her arms.

“I-I’m Zoé. Great meeting you, Marinette! I’m new!” I hugged her. This was so exciting!

She didn’t hug me back.

In the hand I could see was the strap of her bag.

She hadn’t spread her arms for a hug. She just moved the box to the side while she took off her bag.

I gingerly let her go. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m a bit excited.”

“That’s alright. You’re new here. It must be a lot to take in.” She reassured me with a smile. God, she was adorable.

“I’m Chloé’s sister. This is the first time we go to the same school. I hope we become as close as the two of you are.”

A guffaw came from the back of the class. “As close as those two? Good one Zoé.” Some other students giggled at that.

“Shut up, Kim!” Chloé’s face was bright red.

So… She lied about being friends with everyone in the class? Maybe she hadn’t changed as much as hoped. Then again, she had cared enough to lie about it. Original Chloé wouldn’t have. That was an improvement right?

“Why don’t we sit down and start with a proper introduction for all newcomers?” Miss Bustier intervened.

==========

“Marinette! Over here!” Socqueline flagged me down, her dark pullover combined nicely with her pants. I set my lunch tray down at her table.

“How’s your new class? Did Chloé try to start anything yet?”

“No. She didn’t.” The hesitation in my voice was clear. I sighed. “She has a sister. Who’s also in our class.”

“Shit. I thought one Chloé was bad enough. Two will be hell.”

“But that’s the weird thing. Zoé’s sweet. And I think she’ll be a positive influence.”

“As if! She’s the devil. There’s no saving that.”

“Who’s the devil?” Nino set his tray down beside mine. The blue of his shirt clashing with the cheap plastic green of the tabletop.

“Who do you think.” Socqueline raised an eyebrow at him.

“Right… Apparently the devil has a sister. From America! Rumour says she’s ‘the good twin’.”

“Even a good Chloé will still be rotten.”

“I don’t know, dude. I saw her hug Chloé and Sabrina before class. And Chloé let her. In public!”

“She hugged me too.” I piped up.

Nino looked amused at that. Socqueline didn’t.

“Why?” She asked suspiciously, looking me over. ”Did she put something on your back? Steal something?”

“No! She was just excited about being in the same class as Chloé. I think she looks up to her. Has Chloé acting funny though.”

“Funny how?”

“She cares about Zoé’s opinion. Whenever she snaps, she walks it back and tries to play it of as a joke. Pretends she’s friends with everyone. No idea if Zoé buys it, though.”

“Wait, the sister’s called Zoé? You think they really are twins?” Nino scratched his cap.

I shook my head. “Zoé looks younger. Too young to be in our class, really.”

“There it is.” Socqueline pointed her fork at me. “Pretending she’s an angel but throwing mayor daddy’s weight around. Don’t fall for it, Marinette. Chloé’s always had it out for you. If this Zoé gets along with her, she’s bad news.”

Was Zoé really pretending?

Unlike Chloé’s ‘more-money-than-God’-chic Zoé went for a ‘girl-next-door’-vibe. She even had a shock of coloured hair Chloé would’ve bullied anyone else over. Her shoes were interesting too. Chloé’s and Sabrina’s names were written on them in marker, along with some I didn’t recognise.

She had looked excited about meeting some of her new classmates. That didn’t look faked. But she had acted more down-to-earth around others. Had Chloé told her about us? That might’ve been a bad sign.

Then again, Chloé tried to be better around Zoé. She had even forced herself to complement me, painful though that moment was. Was Socqueline right? Or was Zoé genuinely nice?

Chapter Text

Chloé had made enemies of most of the class; she turned in shoddily-made homework and whenever she was reminded of her class president duties she let out an annoyed sigh. An improvement on all fronts. She even forewent a lunch period to attend a meeting. I felt proud. Proud and alone. She had taken Sabrina.

Rose had invited me to join her, Juleka and Luka, excitedly asking about any princes or princesses I had met. I was ready to accept her invitation. Until my eyes met Juleka’s. The prospect of spending an entire lunch period with a practical stranger drained the colour from her face, so I had forced myself to promise to eat lunch with them another time.

==========

Marinette was seated, all on her own, picking at a salad, drawing in a notebook, at a corner table. I could not ask for a better opportunity.

We didn’t have our meet-cute at the bakery and that first school day had been an awkward mess. On top of that she tended to avoid Chloé for… obvious reasons. This all added up to us not interacting much at all. With a deep breath I approached her table.

“Is this seat taken?” I flashed my best smile.

She looked up, surprised to see me. “Oh, uhm, sure.” She gestured for me to sit down but I noticed her glancing around while she put away her notebook.

“Thank you. With Chloé at her student council thing I suddenly found myself alone.”

She visibly relaxed: “Zoé, right? Are you getting used to the school and everything?”

“I am.” I smiled. “Speaking French all the time takes some getting used to, but everyone’s been so nice.”

“That’s right! I heard you’re from America, what’s that like?” She sounded genuinely interested.

Had she not taken the bait I wouldn’t know what to talk about. I had honed this answer, my best shot at becoming a person to her that’s not just ‘Chloé’s sister’.

A tray was set down next to me with a bang, making me jump. “Hey, there! Do we have a new lunch-buddy?” The new girl cut me off.

She towered over me. Her hair was in that same style of pigtails Marinette’s would be next year. She was dressed maturely, and her gaze was fierce. Did Marinette have a friend like this?

I caught myself quickly and put on a happy face. “Oh, hello. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Zoé.”

I offered her a hand. She did not take it.

“I’ve heard about you. Chloé’s sister, right? Aren’t you having lunch with her?”

This was bad. For most people ‘American’ was exotic enough to give me a chance, but this girl clearly hated Chloé.

“Oh, we’re not joined at the hip. This is the first year we-“

“Fascinating. Marinette,” Her tone became a lot gentler: “You were designing new socks, weren’t you? How’s that going?”

Marinette quickly swallowed a bite of her salad when she suddenly had the table’s attention thrust upon her. “Oh, uhm, yeah. They’re still in their early stages, but I made some sketches.”

While Marinette searched her bag, I tried to think of a way to convince the tall girl she didn’t need to protect Marinette from me.

I came up empty.

Luckily, Marinette didn’t. She flipped through her notebook until she landed on a page with several sketches.

“I tried a dotted pattern, but I’m not confident I’ll ever look good in them.” She moved the book closer to us.

“That looks lovely, Marinette. Do you do this kind of thing more often?” I knew the answer to that, but it would be nice to hear it from her.

“Fashion’s a passion of mine.” She said with the cutest little blush. “Honest opinion, do you really think it’s good?”

“May I?” I gave another smile as I reached for the book.

The hand of the tall girl cut me off with a startling smack.

“Careful now. We’re still eating. You wouldn’t want it getting dirty, right?” She glared at me.

“Socqueline.” Marinette clenched her teeth. “Zoé’s practically finished eating, I’m sure she can be careful.”

Right. Her name was Socqueline. Chloé traumatised Marinette and got this girl expelled. No, wait. That hadn’t happened yet. Still, enough had happened, judging by Socqueline’s behaviour.

“It’s okay, Marinette. I’ll look another time. I’d love to see all you come up with.”

“All of it?” Socqueline cut in. “Why? Are you into fashion, Zoé?”

“I can assure you I only have good intentions.”

“And I trust you, why?”

“Have I done anything to you?”

“Socqueline, Zoé, why don’t we take a breather?”

“I may not know you, but I know your sister.”

“You can leave Chloé out of this, thank you very much.”

“Why? She never leaves anyone out of it!”

“Socqueline, stop it!”

“Do not make me your enemy!”

“Zoé, please don’t encourage her.”

“Threats? How unexpected!”

Suddenly a hand was thrust in front of me. Chloé’s. “What do you think you’re doing to my sister?”

Where had she come from? As I looked away from Socqueline I realised we had stood up in our argument. The entire cafeteria was looking at us, had we been that loud? Mr. Damocles entered the room, none too happy. This had gotten way out of hand.

“Stop sicking your little sister on us.”

Damn it. If things continued Socqueline wouldn’t have to wait until the year’s end to get expelled. If that happened Chloé would end up as the worst version of herself, Marinette would hate me, and I might as well have stayed in America.

“Chloé, I’m sorry. Things got heated, let’s drop it.” I held her hand.

“Not until she learns what happens when you go against a Bourgeois.”

“Are you anything without daddy backing you up?”

“Would anyone mind explaining what is happening here?” Mr. Damocles had made it to our table.

Chloe wasted no time pulling me into a hug: “That bully just went off against my little sister.”

“I’m the bully now? That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Girls, there’s no reason to continue arguing.”

“Mr. Damocles, my sister is completely innocent.”

“Mr. Damocles, you can’t be thinking of believing her of all people, can you?”

“Mr. Damocles, can we really allow the bullying of a new student? I insist you punish her.”

“Miss. Bourgeouis, why don’t we listen to both sides before we decide on punishments?”

“Really? Do you think that’s what daddy-?”

“I was being racist!”

That was a dumb thing to blurt out, but it got them to stop arguing. Everyone turned to me after that outburst. Centre of attention, I could work with this. I just had to keep control of the conversation and bluff my way out.

“Socqueline was angry because I said something racist...” I tried again.

She and Marinette exchanged a confused look.

“I didn’t mean to.” I quickly corrected: “It… was an accident.”

“You said something racist… by accident?”

“I… didn’t mean to… I was just… insensitive? Yes! I asked if Marinette and Socqueline were sisters because they treat each other so kindly and they’re so similar. Just like me and Chloé.”

I took the moment to hug Chloé back, highlighting my innocence. ”Now that I think about it, it does sound like I was just saying they look the same. I’m sorry, that wasn’t my intention.”

The silence that followed was nerve-wracking. Do I start crying for pity points? No, that’s way too soon and Chloé would speak for me again.

“Oh, hahah, that’s what it was.” Marinette piped up: “Pffft, yeah… we must have been mistaken. See, Socqueline, everything’s fine.” She said with too much flair.

Socqueline looked at me in disbelief, maybe suspicion, but relented: “Yes, I guess we’re good.”

It was clear we weren’t, but this was good enough for Mr. Damocles as he took the opportunity to address the student body with a speech about tolerance and forgiveness.

I moved within whispering distance of Marinette: “You’re a real poor liar, you know that?”

That earned me a giggle and a punch to the shoulder: “Like you’re any better.”

Chapter Text

Who serves sushi at a funeral? All those “proper” ladies and gentlemen shovelling it in their mouths like so much finger-food put me right off. But I hadn’t come to London to complain. I wasn’t Audrey.

“Félix, can I borrow you for a moment? I wish to talk.” I had been pleasantly surprised that he wasn’t the jerk I would have expected from the show. Might be because I first met him years before today.

He seemed relieved seeing a familiar face, excusing himself from a guy trying to suck up to the Fathom-Graham de Vanily wealth. “I can make some time.”

He always had a weak spot for me playing the spoiled little sister and even now batting my eyelashes was enough to get him to take some time away from forcing himself to be a perfect host.

I led him to a side room and gestured to a table with food I had redirected from the kitchens. “You haven’t eaten much these past couple days.”

“Sushi? What were they thinking? I haven’t been hungry anyway. Too busy.”

“Felix, you’re not yourself. Did something happen?”

He let out a laugh. “My father died. Isn’t that enough?”

“You wouldn’t mourn that man.”

He hesitated: “He had an … interesting revelation on his deathbed. That’s all.”

“What an ass. What did he say?”

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” It mattered enough for Felix to bring up. “He said his piece, good riddance.”

I let the silence sit for a moment, but he refused to continue.

“Hell or high water, I’m on your side, Felix. Always.”

“Thank you… I’m a bit late, but happy birthday. Twelve years old already.”

I smiled but said nothing. His tone betrayed another worry.

With a sigh he sat down on a sofa. “And Adrien?”

“With Chloé in one of the guest rooms. They won’t say it, but they’re worried about her.” I grabbed a plate and sat next to him.

“Same symptoms.”

“Same diagnosis.”

Another silence. I popped something with crab in my mouth.

“How’s school in France? Shouldn’t you be in class right now?”

“What good is nepotism if I can’t benefit my friends?”

That returned a bit of his smile.

==========

He never told me what his father had said that bothered him so, but he had started showing his old self again by the time we had said our goodbyes and boarded the plane. If only I had the confidence to say it wasn’t just to stop me from worrying.

“Will Felix be alright?” Adrien whispered to not wake Aunt Emelie who was seated across from us.

He wasn’t really asking about Felix.

Chloé, on his other side, only hugged herself as a response.

Years ago, I was convinced I could solve this. That I could save the woman who now was the closest thing I had to a mother. But I’m not Ladybug, I can’t make miracles happen.

“We’ll always be here for him. It will be hard, but he won’t be alone.” I hugged him and pulled Chloé in for good measure. “So even if it takes a while, he will be. And we’ll help.”

Aunt Emelie coughed in her sleep. She was getting worse.

==========

And then she was gone.

Like Felix’ father before her it was inevitable. I knew that better than anyone. She hadn’t been there at the start of the series. So, with less than half a year to go it was to be expected.

But I could have never been ready for this. One day she was there and the next she was gone.

She had taken her wheelchair into the garden for an evening stroll and never came back. No-one had seen anything and neither did the security cameras.

Even though I knew this was coming I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t even be there for Chloé and Adrien. I had to run away to school.

“Are you alright?” An unknown voice snapped me out of my ruminations.

Juleka was looking at me. I blinked. I realised I had never heard her voice before.

“It’s already break-time and you were kinda quiet during class today so I thought, you know….” She reverted to her regular volume under direct eye-contact.

I looked around and we were the only ones left in the classroom. Even Sabrina’s seat was empty.

“She said something about class president duties.”

Right. Sabrina would take care of that. She’s a good friend. Even if it would have been a welcome distraction. Chloé was with Adrien. Even Felix had come all the way from London to lend his support. I should have been there for them too, but I just couldn’t. Just the thought of all those police officers trampling through our memories made me ill.

“Thank you. I’ve… had a lot on my mind.” Then I realised what had felt off. “Isn’t Rose with you today?”

“She’s at home. She… has a headache and needs to rest.”

“Oh.”

Oh? really? The girl’s friend is sick at home and all I can manage is an ‘Oh’?

I forced a smile. “She’s been home from school before because of her… ‘headaches’. I’m sure she’ll get better days again soon.”

Juleka nodded, that must be what she tells herself too.

“Uhm… We said we’d have lunch sometime, right? If you’re not busy we, uhm, now would work for me.”

“Lunch?” Juleka didn’t know what I was going through, and I was pretty sure she was afraid of me, but she was trying to help. “I would love to.”

==========

Luka was already waiting in the boiler room, their secret haven in which I was suddeny allowed. He didn’t question why I was here. Juleka brought me, that was enough for him.

Luka led the conversation, coaxing me into joining, but never making me feel bad for a minimal response. A skill he probably practiced on his sister.

When I did talk Juleka was a good listener, and Luka had an emotional maturity that made me feel like I could act my age. I felt at peace with them. I knew they wouldn’t judge.

Then Luka asked me what had me down.

The moment I started talking I couldn’t stop. I told them about Aunt Emilie and her illness. I told them about how I wanted to be there for Adrien and Chloé, but I just couldn’t stand to be in that house without her there.

I don’t remember the last time I cried. Yet I was bawling all throughout lunch, being comforted by two practical strangers. I thoroughly embarrassed myself, but they didn’t care, all they saw was someone that needed comforting.

I owed them. I don’t think this loss will ever stop hurting, but in just one lunch break they helped me get to a point where I could confidently go back to the Agreste mansion to be with Chloé, Adrien and Félix.