She landed in the dark, damp room. A small candle, flickering nervously from the table, highlighted a small puddle which had formed in the centre of the room. Cedrina made her way unsteadily across the room, clambering over upturned chairs and shattered belongings. When she finally reached the puddle, bile rose in her throat and made her retch. Blood. The scent curled up her nose and distorted her thoughts, clouding any rational thought.
Stumbling away from the horrific sight which greeted her, Cedrina ran from the room into the darkness outside, retching and coughing to erase the taste of bile from her mouth. Clasping her figures to her stomach, she felt a gentle kick from the baby which grew inside her. It seemed to comfort her, for her breathing steadied and some colour returned to her face. Slowly but surely, she returned to the devestation, which was all that remained of John Lupin's home.
The dirt floor was slick with blood, and the walls were splattered with scarlet. Her hand quivered as she retrieved her wand from her pocket, and in a shaky voice, Cedrina muttered "lumos" under her breathe. A warm glow lit the room, yet it jarred with the sight it made visible. Pots and plates had shattered all over the wall, littering every surface with shards of crockery. The armchairs had been overturned, and stuffing was oozing from the savaged cushions. A mirror had been smashed, and the shards glittered like dust on the floor below.
"Seven years bad luck" Cedrina whispered sadly into the silence. She stood still, glaring around the devastation. An uneasy silence lay like a smothering blanket on the room. And then, so quiet she could barely hear it, Cedrina heard a small groan.
John Lupin lay near the door, his knees curled up to his chin. His short brown hair was matted with blood, and his clothes saturated. A pale sheen of sweat illuminated his face, a gentle shine which highlighted a mask of pale. He struggled to open his eyes, and they flickered nervously when he saw Cedrina. He seemed to be choking on his words, coughing and spluttering as he struggled to verbalise his pain. Eventually, he managed to nod gently at her, and she made her way towards him slowly, nauseous at the sight before her. "He... he knows, Ced. H...he came here, and, and he did this. I... I c-can't move my leg, Ced. A...and everything h-hurts. B-but if I'm d-dying, I'm g-glad I'm... with you." he whispered.
"Don't talk like that, John," Cedrina sobbed, tears gushing down her ashen face, "you aren't going to die. Of course you aren't. You can't! You have to stay with me John, you have to!" She began stroking his matted hair, smoothing the tangles and feeling the soft, warm tendrils under her fingers. He sighed contentedly.
"B...but look at what he did. A-at first every...everything h-hurt. B-but now, I'm just n...numb," he muttered, clasping her hand tightly in his.
"John, don't you dare think like that," she wailed, shaking her head in disbelief at the idea of him slipping away. She pulled her hand from his and began to fiddle with a strand of his hair. An uneasy silence fell between them. Finally, John coughed weakly, and Cedrina's words began to tumble out.
"I... I have something to tell you. I've been hiding it from you, I just... I didn't know how you'd react. I was a coward, and now it might be too late. John, I've been keeping a huge secret from you for months because I didn't know how you'd react, and..."
John's face, already lacking in colour, turned ashen. His grey eyes pierced her brown ones, as if he was staring straight into her soul. Eventually he choked out, "w...what is it, Ced?", his voice weak.
"I... I wanted to tell you. I did. But I was scared, and... I'm having a baby, John." she whispered.
John blinked heavily, and a dazed expression crossed his face for a moment, only to be replaced by a dizzying happiness mere seconds later.
"A baby? You... you're pregnant?" he stuttered, his face breaking into a huge grin.
Cedrina only nodded. John continued to stare at her, as if he was drinking in every detail of her face, like he could never see her enough times. And then his grip on her hand slackened, and his eyes seemed to lose their sparkle. He was gone.
Tears began to well in Cedrina's eyes, leaking out and dribbling down her pale cheek. Her lips quivering, she bent down and placed a delicate kiss on John's lips, slick with blood. Then, although she knew all hope was futile, she began muttering any curse she believed would help.
"N-n-no," she moaned miserably, "you can't be dead John! You can't! E... Episkey! N-no, of course that won't work, his leg isn't broken... he's just lost so much blood. Anapneo! Reparifors... why isn't anything working? You can't die John... you can't!"
John remained motionless on the floor, still as bloodied and savaged as before. The steady rhythm of his heart had faded to nothing, and his face looked almost childlike in death, a look of utter peace upon his face.
"Vulnera sanentur..." Cedrina began to moan, but it sounded like a hauntingly beautiful song. Sobs threatened to choke her as she continued saying "... Vulnera sanentur, Vulnera sanentur," to her lover's body.
The gashes across his chest and throat began to lose the vivid red shade they had once held, and his savaged leg seemed to be repairing itself. The blood which bubbled out of his lips began to evaporate in scarlet clouds, and colour returned to his cheeks. Cedrina continued to chant, waving her wand at any visible gash on his body. She could almost hear his heartbeat growing stronger, tentative at first but becoming steadier with each beat. Her sobs subsided as each gash disappeared, and soon, his body seemed to never have been attacked by Fenrir Greyback.
With a heaving sigh, John Lupin sat up.