The Last Fight

Chapter 8: Torn

The moment I was sure Cedric was asleep I crept out of bed and into the living room. I sat on the couch, pulling my knees up to my chin. I rubbed at my forehead – another headache was blooming.

It had been three days since the night at the warehouse. Three sleepless, painful days. I had a constant headache, didn’t feel like eating, and every time I finally found sleep, night terrors found me. Lance was messing with me again.

Had it even happened, though? Everything had felt real, and I was back being to physically miserable just like last spring when he had decided to play games with me. But… he had been acting so weird. And when he left, everything was just how it was when I had entered the building. What was up with that?

With a yawn, I checked the clock – 12:09. I walked into the kitchen and started to make coffee. Okay, so there were only two options – either it had been real or some kind of hallucination. If there was some kind of third option here, then I wasn’t clever enough to imagine it.

I poured coffee into my mug and went looking for some sugar. Say it had been fake. Had I just made it all up on my own? All of it, or just parts? Had Lance somehow used Legilimency and implanted it in my mind, like Voldemort had done to Harry just a few months ago? Was that even possible? There were way too many questions.

I returned to the living room, sipping hot coffee as quickly as I could. And if everything in the warehouse had been real? Lance was crazy, absolutely mental if he thought we could bring down Voldemort. Two people, practically still kids, fresh out of school, simply couldn’t defeat one of the most dangerous wizards of all time. But then again… weren’t the hopes of the entire wizarding community riding on Harry’s shoulders? Harry, who was barely sixteen, who, though he had defeated Voldemort numerous times, wasn’t even out of school yet, my younger brother, was expected to save everyone. So why couldn’t I be the one to stop Voldemort instead?

No, that was ridiculous. “Neither can live while the other survives,” that’s what the prophecy said. Harry had to be the one to kill Voldemort – no one else.

But what if it was true that Lance could help me get more powerful and protect everyone? And he… he did say he loved me… if there was one thing Lance was, it was tenacious. He said he would destroy Voldemort if that’s what I wanted. And of course that’s what I wanted, how could it not be? But to have to spend my life with him in return… I somehow doubted that he would let me slide out of a deal with him. But to save everyone I loved…

‘No, no, no,’ I told myself. ‘I’m not going to give in to Lance’s false temptations.’ Whatever methods Lance planned on using, I didn’t want any part of it. I slammed my empty coffee mug down on the coffee table. “I’m not going to be part of your game, Lance,” I said harshly to the mug, as if everything was its fault. I decided to find a book to take my mind off things and let the caffeine wear off. I had never before wanted so badly to escape from reality to the pages of a book.

-

“Jennifer… Jennifer, wake up.”

A hand gently shook my shoulder and lips kissed my forehead. I opened my eyes and blinked a few times and found Cedric leaning over me, our noses almost touching.

“You fell asleep on the couch again,” he said, frowning slightly before I gave him a quick kiss.

“Sorry about that,” I replied, glancing around. My mug was still on the table and the book I had been reading last night had tumbled onto the floor some time during my sleep.

“What were you doing?” he asked as I shuffled around so he could sit.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I grabbed a book.”

“You’ve been having nightmares again. Right?” I gave a bit of a start. His grey eyes were serious. “Right?”

“I… no.” I locked eyes with him. “No. I’ve just been having trouble getting to sleep.”

“You sure?”

I kept my face straight. “Yeah. I have a lot on my mind.”

“Don’t we all,” he replied, smiling a bit. “But, no nightmares?”

“No unnatural ones, anyways.”

He frowned again. “Alright, if you’re sure.”

“Yes,” I promised him, kissing him once more. “What time is it?”

“Fifteen to eight.”

I bolted up off the couch, running in to the kitchen to throw some bread in the toaster. Cedric yelled bye to me as he locked the front door and I ran to take a quick shower. I dressed, grabbed my wand, slathered some peanut butter on my toast and Disapparated for the Leaky Cauldron.

As usual, there weren’t many people in the bar. I nodded to Tom as I ran to the back alley, stuffing my toast in my mouth. After tapping the appropriate brick with my wand, the ach appeared and I sprinted as fast as I could down Diagon Alley without tripping on the cobblestones. I was wheezing when I finally burst in to Flourish and Blotts.

“There you are,” Mr. Blotts said, setting down a stack of books next to the shelf he was restocking. He started levitating them to their proper places, and his expression was one of both disapproval and relief. “I thought—I mean, I hoped for the best of course, but…”

“Nope, I’m fine,” I gasped out, setting my hands on my shaking knees. “I just… slept in… that’s all.” I took a moment to get my breath back. “Glad I finally passed the test, I would have been at least twenty minutes late.”

“Good, good,” he muttered in response. “We have a new shipment in the back… if you please…”

So I nodded and headed to the back, finishing off my toast. We had several stacks of new books, some to replenish school books, others new arrivals. I sighed, found the record book and a quill, and started recording all the titles.

The day went by rather slowly. I wrote down books for nearly an hour and then put them away while Mr. Blotts helped customers. There weren’t many people in except last minute school purchases and a few casual browsers. It still felt wrong not to be in here buying my school books.

“Slow day,” I commented to Mr. Blotts as our latest customers (a family with two kids) left.

“It’s been slow since—well, you know.”

“Voldemort.”

Mr. Blotts twitched. “Don’t… yes. Since Fudge left office. People are… scared.”

“I bet.”

The door jingled open and Mr. Blotts went to help the customer while I tidied up the History section. I snuck around the bookshelf, still gripping a copy of Gruesome Goblin Collisions to peer at the customers. There was a woman with white-blonde hair and a young man with dark brown hair. I frowned, and then the man turned around. It was Lance.

I snapped backwards and pressed myself against the bookshelf, clutching the thick volume to my chest and breathing hard. Dammit, dammit, dammit. How did he find me again?

I glanced back and frowned. This guy looked nothing like Lance—he wore glasses, and his hair was far too light a shade of brown. But… but seconds ago, that had been Lance’s face. I shook my head. I was just seeing things. Shaking slightly, I shelved the book and started on the rest.

Several times before I left work, I thought I saw Lance. His face was everywhere—on book covers, customers’ faces, in the walls, even. By the time we closed, I was hearing his voice in my head. I rushed out of the shop, frantic to get away.

‘Jennifer.’

I stumbled into a pair of elderly witches who shot me dirty looks and then they hustled on like they were scared.

‘Jennifer, just listen.’

I nearly fell into a huge cauldron, knocking my knees against it and ran on, my wand held tight in my hand.

‘Just listen!’

I ran through the brick archway and into the Leaky Cauldron, slamming the palm of my hand into my forehead. “Get out of my head!” I all but yelled, startling the two other people in the bar. I turned on the spot, Disapparating directly into the hallway outside my flat.

I screamed in pain. As I appeared outside my front door, I felt a searing pain in my arm and blood flowing down it. At the same time, the headache exploded and my brain felt like it was trying to break out of my skull. Words and conversation flooded my mind, making absolutely no sense. Half of it was in languages I didn’t understand. I fumbled with the doorknob with my good hand, finding it locked as it should be. I couldn’t hear anything and my vision was swimming. I gripped my bleeding, Splinched arm and rammed my good shoulder into my door frantically.

The second time I went to ram the door, my shoulder now aching, it flew open just as I made contact with it, smashing both myself and the door into Cedric’s face. We toppled over onto the carpet, my blood getting on it, Cedric, and my robes.

“Jennifer!” Cedric wheezed as I rolled off of him, clutching at my head with a bloody hand as the voices turned angry and grew much louder. “You’re… bleeding!”

“Make it stop!” I screamed. Cedric scrambled to his feet, yelling things I couldn’t understand—his voice was blending with all the other ones, and it just made my head hurt worse. He reached down to me, pressing on the Splinch wound. I squeezed my eyes shut from the pain of everything.

“Dittany,” I groaned, lights and shapes bouncing and blinking in my vision. I could hardly hear myself over the roar in my head. I felt Cedric’s hand leave my arm. “No, no, don’t leave me…”

‘I won’t be leaving you.’

Lance’s voice rang out clear over the din. My head was aching so bad tears ran down my face. Was this what Harry felt like when his scar hurt?

‘I’ll always be with you.’

“Get out of my head,” I moaned. There was another searing pain in my arm.

‘You can’t escape me. You’ll give in to me eventually.’

“Protego!”

The silence was deafening. My head throbbed, and I struggled to open my eyes. Cedric was standing over me, his wand held in one hand, pointed at me, and a small bottle of Essence of Dittany in the other. He looked disheveled and distressed.

“What…” he breathed almost dangerously. “What the bloody hell was that?”

I found myself shaking uncontrollably and violently. “I—I—I…”

Cedric carefully pocketed the bottle and his wand before leaning down and helping me up. My knees shook and I nearly fell over, so he wrapped an arm around my waist and walked me into the bedroom.

“Jen… please, what happened?” he asked a bit gentler this time.

“Cedric, I’m going mad.” I was whispering, but it sounded like yelling.

“You’re not mad, Jen.”

“His voice is in my head,” I said shakily, more tears falling down my cheeks.

“Lance?” Cedric asked darkly. We sat on the bed together.

“Ye – yes,” I stuttered.

He pulled me into a tight hug. “He’s not going to win,” Cedric said firmly. “He’s not going to.”

“What can I do, Cedric?” I asked, still clutching at my head with my bloody hand. It didn’t feel quite like it would explode anymore, but it still ached and my ears were still ringing.

“I… um… I don’t know Jen. But I’ll help you any way I can.”

I shuddered. “Th-thanks, Cedric.”

He pressed his lips to my forehead, burning a kiss into my skin. “You should sleep.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll get you some—”

“No,” I said suddenly, guessing what he was going to say. “I’m scared to sleep.”

He frowned slightly again, and nudging me down to lying. “I’ll stay with you then.”

“Thanks.”